Summer has arrived in Bedfordshire – hurrah.
After a sleep free night on the floor of the lounge with a chickenpox covered baby (the move to the lounge made sense at 3am – I thought that Ben and Chris would sleep better if noisy itchy Ciaran and I were downstairs and remembered enough to know that sleeping on a couch with a baby was not an option) two long tiring meetings at work I booked 2 days leave for Wed and Thur and joined in the national hobby of sun worshipping.
Now – I am a brunette (albeit a freckled one), Chris is fair haired and from Northern Ireland, yet it is me who burns. Even so I couldn’t resist welcoming our welcome but rare visitor by sunbathing for half an hour on Wednesday morning – despite hastily applying E45 to my face and chest when Chris got home he instantly noticed the red across my chest.
Yesterday Ben and I (suitably covered in suncream and a hat for Ben) visited the park while poor spotty Ciaran played at his Ninny’s. In the late afternoon I deemed it safe to take the kids out to the garden again and decided that I would rest on the sun bed while they played around.
Wrong – Ben has already inherited the English desire to make the most of the sun whenever it appears. While I turned my back to get Ciaran settled on the lawn he climbed onto the sunbed, stretched his arms out and shut his eyes. Admittedly not many people sunbath in their wellies, but my son has his own dress sense and wasn’t going to let that stop him sunbathing.
I wondered this morning why we make such a big deal of the sun and decided it must be a scarcity thing. Once or twice on holiday I have noticed locals wearning jumpers, jackets and long trousers while my family and I stroll by in shorts and T-Shirts determined to soak up the sun whenever it is out.
The other national taste that my kids have inherited from me is the love of stodge. A while ago Chris and I vaguely contemplated emigration to a warm country, as much as I would love to be warm and playing outdoors all year round I couldn’t see how I would eat my favourite comfort foods in a warm country – shepherds pie topped with cheesy leeks followed by a spotted dick and custard etc… would not seem right in Florida.
This love of baking and warm heavy foods has gone to the kids, which is why today I have a yet another gingerbread maturing in clingfilm. Strangely DH who grew up in a much colder part of the UK doesn’t have the same cravings for traditional puds – crumbles, pies and cobblers leave him cold which is good as it leaves more me and boys to scoff whilst socking up sun while it lasts.
Hope everyone else cab indulge in some safe sunbathing this weekend!