After my coffee hit, I was able to function.
Not better. Just in general.
Grumpy had been asked to assist at a “food festival thing” where there were also kids activities. He agreed to ring if it was any good.
He did ring, around the time I was indulging in an a well brewed beverage. Asked us to come along.
Rang a friend who lived nearby to see if she’d like to meet up.
We get there and its a Home Winemakers Festival. Not the food fest I had in mind. Still, there was a coffee stand in the back corner. So we head there first, which also happened to be right next to a stand where they were handing out bowls of freshly cooked pasta. Which, it turns out, was prepared and cooked by Grumpy, who was relegated to the kitchen and not allowed out.
My kids managed three bowls each and my friend turned up with her kids. Everyone around us was partaking in the home brews taking up the rest of the hall. We weren’t game enough to try it, but did take the giant leap and allow the kids to do some plaster painting, whilst the crowd around us just got louder.
Chippie needed another feed, so once agian my bottom was parked an a too small chair while I supervised children slapping paint on to precariously balanced lady bugs and sea horses. Interesting colour schemes for these types of creatures, but who am I to comment.
Everyone finished, and I stood with a stuffed full baby over my shoulder while names were written on plaster castings and put somewhere to dry. The hall being filled with a lot of Italians, I was getting lots of attention having a new baby on my shoulder. One lady even so generously approached and said “Your baby just threw up!”
A quick glance at my shoulder – like this was a suprise to me