I am working at home most of this week, enjoying the view from my sewing room/office space. I probably should spend more time concentrating on my screen. When I take a break, I wander across to the other side of the house and enjoy the views there. I have particularly enjoyed watching birds. We have bird feeders front and back, each with different foods. I have one in the back with niger seeds, which is said to be attractive for goldfinches. I have seen a pair four years ago but never since. These seeds must be extraordinarily attractive because all of a sudden, there is an entire flock of 4 to 6 goldfinches visiting regularly. They are pretty birds. There are ground feeding blackbirds and starlings, too. In the front we have plenty of blue tits, coal tits, great tits, robins, house sparrows and even the odd magpie. I filled the feeder there with a mixture of spring feeding suitable delicacies, some dried worms, different types of seeds and nuts. The feed doesn't last long, there must be a really hungry creature the size of a turkey judging by the rapid disappearance of all goodies. The squirrel visits, too. It prefers peanuts and I have now used up all the accumulated nuts. Jack of course goes completely bonkers when the squirrel sits in his front garden, munching nuts. He doesn't blink twice for the flying visitors.
An unexpected bonus of observing birds is that James started reading the bird books we have. It is usually Alistair who thumbs the pages and I am pleased that James took an interest. He never reads voluntarily because he is intimidated by unfamiliar vocabulary. This development is a major step and I am really really proud of him.
In other news, Sam offered to make me waffles for breakfast (at midday). I gave him a recipe, secretly cursing myself for letting him near the kitchen with a recipe that has plenty of scope for wrecking the place. I was not disappointed. It was quite comical actually, listening to him destroying my kitchen. The mess was astonishing and the waffle mixture so thin it flowed out of the waffle iron. I assumed this meant certain death for the waffle iron, particularly since the mixture had to be rinsed off under the tap with soapy water, it was very resistant to gentler attempts of cleaning. Alas, it is an ancient German make, in all likelihood prehistoric and definitely pre-electric safety check measures like fuses were introduced. I made a new batch of waffle mixture and we had breakfast at 1 pm eventually. It was good.
Annie sent me a text from Cumbria, saying she was really really homesick, and that she was crying in the bathroom. Poor wee mite. She was so cross with me when she left for her trip, she barely managed a good bye. I am so happy that I am still the one she gets in touch with when she has a wobble. I can't be an entirely clueless mother after all. All is well again, I am pleased about that. She'll be back tomorrow. I miss her, too.
James and Alistair meanwhile need collecting form the holiday club shortly. We are cycling, practicing riding our bikes on the road. It gets my heart rate up to about 180 bpm, watching them but road confidence is essential for safe cycling and can only be gained by practice. Wish me luck.
Thanks for stopping by. xx
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