12 friends, two tents and ten candles ...

Oh dear another whole week has gone by without a new post, any visits to your lovely blogs - I'm so sorry my bloggy friends. It's definitely tail chasing time of year isn't it? So many things to do at school, at home etc- here's hoping that things will calm down in a couple of weeks with the onset of the summer holidays - fingers crossed!
Anyway, back to the matter in hand - those of you who read the last post about Little Sister's birthday might be wondering what was spooky about the entry for "Tent" being under the entry for "ten" in my old French dictionary. Well if you remember reading about our visits here and Big Sister's Birthday, you will understand just why Little Sister said "no" to a birthday party and "yes" to a weekend camping.



It's funny isn't it no matter how much you fall in love with a place, there is always a doubt that the next visit might disappoint, or let you down in some way. We should have known that this would never happen here. Our magical spot was waiting for us, the sun was shining through the trees and our friends arrived laden with food, pressies and more food.



I can't tell you how special this place is. It's pure enchantment - a child's special dream, an adult's weekend fantasy.
We made ourselves at home, once more, in Mr Tumnuss' house,



noting the hot water bottles that had been left thoughtfully for our visit and praying that we wouldn't need them.



We decked the woods with bunting, our children ran off to explore and we took a deep breath. Breathing out the stresses of the week and breathing in the fresh, pure promise of the weekend. There is something about camping, about spending a length of time that makes you appreciate the course of a day, no distractions, just living and enjoying the moment.



No sooner had we settled in than Emma and her lovely family arrived for tea and cake (courtesy of Mrs Sew Recycled). It was lovely to see her two boys enjoying themselves in the woods, experiencing the joys of hanging from rope swings, paddling in the stream, wandering off alone (all very boy's own stuff). We played rounders, we ate, we laughed, we chatted and laughed some more.
An afternoon that seemed to last forever (in a good way Emma!) - one that you would like to bottle and keep by your bedside for those rainy days...



We made a fire although it was far too warm,



we ate our food in the dappled sunshine of early evening and the children drank their summer "cocktails" and devoured the homemade brownies that Little Sister had made the night before.



We took a twilight stroll into the woods, marveled at half finished camps,



stared at strange shapes and shadows and listened intently to the sounds of the evening.



We went to sleep accompanied by some singing campers who had formed another party beside us (but that's another story!).
And when we awoke, Little Sister was ten! Her birthday wish was to walk in the stream before breakfast. Not bad eh, bed to stream in a minute!



An afternoon of picnics, birthday cakes, rounders, three legged races (I have the bruises to prove it), swinging from trees and frisbee throwing.



Time went at its proper pace last weekend and we left our beloved spot late Sunday afternoon. The bunting removed, the crumbs swept away, the laughter silenced but the magic remained.

Surrey with a fringe on top

On Thursday afternoon, before the beginning of half term there was a stillness and calmness about the house that rarely happens. The hall was free of the piles of shoes, bags, letters, keys, mobile phones etc that usually fill the space. I had been waiting impatiently for the wisteria to trail across our front door and its flowers to bloom in front of the window.



On Thursday it was perhaps at its finest - against a blue sky, a peaceful hallway, its lilac fronds framed my view out and for some reason made me think of that song from "Oklahoma" - " Surrey with a fringe on top". My mum used to love singing that song. I listened to it again on Youtube on Thursday and thought it captured this moment completely. The complete joy of the moment, the optimism of the time of year and my little flowers showing off to as many passersby as possible.



Over the next couple of days the shoes, bags and flotsam and jetsam of daily life mounted up on and around the hall table, the sun came and went but my "fringe" remained,



Sunday morning was perhaps one of the best of the year, a real "Surrey with a fringe on top" morning. Patty's Plum, my favourite oriental poppy, had woken from her winter slumber and added her vibrant colour to the ever increasing blooms in the garden. Isn't it wonderful, this time of year, when we are surprised almost daily by the floral goings on in our gardens?
This riot of colour was a complete contrast to the calmness of my hall and I loved it just as much.



We wandered that afternoon across the city through parks full of families picnicking and toddlers toddling, through deserted roads shimmering in the haze of a glorious day.



The colours of the houses basking in the Sunday sunshine.



We spent the afternoon with friends in their home by the seafront. Played rounders and laughed in the gardens, looked at the view and felt as if were caught inside a painting, framed by the sun, sea and greenery.



Perhaps we had taken a wrong turning and been transported to the South of France - it was that good...



Now if ever there was a "Surrey with a fringe on top" kind of day, this was it. A day of laughter, colour, sunshine, friendship and that feeling you get as you look round at your friends and family and all the other families laughing, playing, lying in the sunshine around you that it is a special day indeed. A day that should be marked with fireworks and fanfares like the ones we saw on the beach that evening, marking the end of the festival and a fitting full stop to a special day.

200 rosy notes

Apologies if you can't hear this post, it has been written very quietly as lack of sleep and too much wine have conspired to make me feel a tad fragile this morning. I really wanted to write this post to wish you all a very Happy New Year and thank you all for your kindness this passed one. I hope you all had a great New Year's Eve spent with family and friends, or if like me, it is not your favourite night of the year, the evening past quietly and peacefully.



We spent last night with our closest friends. Not a dressing up, grand kind of evening but, in my eyes, the best kind of evening, seeing in a New Year with people we love in a relaxed, happy and cosy way. Over the years we have spent New Year's Eve in each other's company, sharing our food, laughter and homes. With every New Year's Eve our children have grown older and bigger, the laughter has grown louder and our relationships stronger. As we sat in their seafront home watching chinese lanterns floating past the windows (yes, it was that idyllic) and fireworks fly off over the sea, I realised that it couldn't get any better. What more would you possibly want to do to say goodbye to one year and welcome in another? And what lay at the heart of it all was our desire and willingness to share.



We have known our friends through times of feast and famine and have supported each other in times of joy and sadness. This year we agreed not to give each other presents and I did worry that it would feel mean or diminish the evening, but in a way the night was better for it. What we savoured was each other - our mad dancing, our shrieking singing, our relentless laughter and the rosy faces of our children as we sat round a candlelit dinner table.



So here we are, slightly the worst for wear, on New Year's Day and this is my 200th post. I won't go on (again!) about how much this blogging business means to me but I will say that, just like evenings spent with friends or family, what has mattered most to me since I began posting was the sense of being able to share. Being able to share in your news and reading your views and comments on my posts has made blogging much more than a way of recording the daily goings on and thoughts from the Roses household. Without your posts, blogs and comments my blogging experience would be so very different. Just like New Year's Eve, I have learnt that sharing things (not necessarily the headache resulting from too much wine and lack of sleep) is fun.



To welcome in the New Year and celebrate my 200 posts I'm offering a little giveaway. To enter, please leave a comment on this post and when I have emerged from my stupor I shall draw a name from a hat. I have, as usual, no idea what I shall be giving away but will go off to a darkened room straightaway and start thinking about it!



Wishing you all a wonderfully happy, rosy New Year, full of dreams fulfilled, magical moments and new blogging friendships. I'm looking forward to reading all about it!