Mothering Sunday

On mothers day morning we all piled into mum’s bed with bunches of flowers, eggs, bacon & tea.

Mum beamed with delight and we all told her the many reasons we love her.

She was then presented with her real treats for the day;

1. She wasn’t to lift a finger, the siblings would take care of everything.

2. We would all commandeer the camera and take all the family pictures she wanted.

We left her to get ready and headed downstairs to start cookin’.

By the time she emerged the bubbles were being poured and everyone was in very high spirits.

Harry & Buggy were put in charge of starters, whipping up roasted asparagus and devilled eggs.

While I gave Tom the task of beating the life out of the mash!

Outside mum was being utterly ripped off at the girls’ shop.

In between cooking we all played in the sun.

I knocked up a couple jugs of cocktails to keep everyone merry.

And enjoyed mine in the VIP tent with Monty.

Custard & Hector played lion & gazelle.

For some reason Custard is always the gazelle…

Tom spun Harry & I round like he did when we were little…

… I can’t take it quite as well as I used to!

But the littles are pros!

In between the starters & the main event we played a monstrous game of Irish Cricket (I was in charge of the mains, hence the apron!)

To play Irish Cricket you get into two teams and it’s a sort of relay race.

But you have to start by putting your forehead on a cricket bat (or golf club) and spinning around 10 times.

It is lethal!

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My team won (of course!) and I took my victory lap in the kitchen. Grabbing the ducks from the oven and making a quick sauce.

Threw everything into serving dishes.

And called everyone to the table (look who got there first).

Mum wore her badge with pride.

And lunch was one of our longest and silliest yet.

Eventually we followed Monty outside for pudding al fresco.

I shared mine with little Olive.

And then we played more ridiculous games.

Can’t every Sunday be Mothering Sunday?

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