Anyway, a much improved Blue has gone to Oxford with the Husband in pursuit of a suit, so Pink and I have hung out, mainly at the library, where I managed to pick up 3 books about quilting (my latest mini-obsession) and Pink persuaded me to let her get The Sword and the Stone DVD. I have one of my internal dilemmas every time I go with the kids to our little library. In my heart, I want them to race to the books, eagerly perusing the shelves, quickly becoming utterly absorbed, but oh no. Every time, straight for the DVDs. “Can’t we have a DVD?” “Pleeeeaaasssse” “But why not?” and then, always “But it’s not FFFAAAAIIIIRRRRRR”. It gives me mild palpitations. To be fair I don’t know what my objection really is. The kids do watch TV but I try to restrict it to a certain extent – probably because that’s how it was for me – BBC One only, and definitely not Grange Hill, but getting DVDs out of the library just feels wrong.
Still, I crumbled fairly quickly this morning, because, going back to the sick household theme, I was up at 3.30 this morning not with one of the kids but with the dog, Fred, who had an upset stomach. I have to say that I wasn’t feeling much sympathy for him at 3.30 this morning as he strained his way around the garden (did I mention his recent penchant for eating baby rats – the less said about that the better, for all concerned, but you get the picture), and even less when I got back in and found the sick that also had to be cleared up, but he really is feeling sorry for himself today. I crawled back into bed about 4 and couldn’t get back to sleep, so you can imagine that it didn’t take much for me to give in to the pressure to have a DVD.
To be honest, as I was making the soup of the week (HFW’s Mexican tomato and bean) after we got back from our little outing, I could hear her hacking away as if she’d been smoking Marlboro Reds all night, and I decided there were worse ways she could spend an hour or so than watching the adventures of the young Arthur as told in glorious Disney technicolour. It also meant that I could get on with swearing at the bread dough – which is a story for another day – and chopping up onions and tomatoes for the soup. Hugh bills it as a summer soup – a kind of salsa in soup form – using black eyed beans and chopped tomatoes. I’m sure it would taste even better using lovely, home-grown tomatoes in the summer months, and the food ethics of using hard, polytunnel (or worse) ripened fruit from Holland haven’t escaped me, but there we go. I left out the chillies just because as I’ve said before, the kids don’t go a bundle on heat just yet, and I used a teaspoon each of ground cumin and coriander, being spices that I use when making fajitas, and which have a familiar taste for them.
Anyway, it’s lunch time now so I’m going to see if I can pack some soupy goodness into Pink at least, and feel like I’m being slightly less negligent a parent! Fred won't be getting any. He's on a starvation diet for 24 hrs. Maybe that will teach him to leave the little ratties alone.