Peacock Awareness

We're regulars at Harcourt Arboretum (part of the botanical gardens in Oxford).  This is Oxfordshire's own little garden of Eden.  Vibrant flowers arranged amongst lush trees in a place of tranquillity is more than we can resist.

But the best thing about the arboretum is the peacocks. They roam as and where they please, hide under bushes, lurk up the tress, and captivate us completely. We can't help following (AC calls it harassing) them.  Understandably they usually try to shake us off, but on our most recent visit we came across a beautiful fellow who seemed to take a liking to us. Maybe he fancied me. Possibly he was attracted to Beth's peacock impersonation. Maybe he liked Adams aroma. Whatever the reason we were enjoying it's company. The kids named him 'Catch It'.

AC warned me that although peacocks are beautiful,
they are still wildfowl like any other fat goose.

It was eventually time to move on. AC led the way. Missy and the A-Bomb sprinted after him. Shemily's sausage legs prevented her from keeping up and she was left behind. I reached out my hand to her as encouragement, and as I did so I noticed our new friend 'Catch It' launch an attack on the weakest member of the family. As quick and deadly as a bullet he sped towards the vulnerable Shemily. Thankfully my split second reflexes saved her. I barely made it to Shemily before 'Catch It' and managed to pull her out of the way, all be it by the neck, before his beak or claws made contact. Shocked and shaken up I made a hasty retreat to the rest of the family. AC's reaction: I warned you!

I echo AC's words of wisdom. Be warned that Peacocks are not the friendly genteel birds their outward appearance portrays. Rather they're killers that watch to catch any small unsuspecting victim off guard (This was also confirmed at a falconry display only the next day at Warwick Castle).

Shemily in close proximity to a very real threat.
Apparently warning us, not flirting with us.

Special Delivery

The clang of the letterbox that indicates post always causes a  flurry of activity in our house. Everyone rushes to be the first to the door and lay their hands on the coveted envelopes on the floor. Last week this same scene played out. AC almost fell down the stairs in his attempt to beat the A-Bomb to the front door. AC claimed anything 'fun' looking (i.e handwritten  letters, dental magazines, etc) and deposited the rest in my lap; a couple of bills, some junk mail, and an official looking letter with no outward clues to it's contents. Intriguing.

Maybe we've won something?
Or could it be another letter asking if we want our kids to take part in medical research?

In my eagerness I rip it open. It's from Thames Valley Police!
Maybe they want to inform about some new neighbourhood watch scheme?
Possibly bring my attention to the arson attempts in the local area?

Hold on a second - Notice of Intended Prosecution - A speeding Ticket!

My initial reaction was fear. Fear of AC's reaction when he finds out. I didn't tell him straight away. First I prepared the way.
'I need to talk to you about something' said I in serious tones.
'About what?'  he asks
'I've got some bad news' I reply with a face of anguish and swiftly make my way outside to busy myself with hanging up laundry on the line.

I leave him and allow his imagination some time to conjour up it's worst. When I eventually break the bad news I expect AC to be relieved that I hadn't poisoned the kids or something equally as bad. But AC looks angry.
'What does this mean?' he enquires
'Just 3 points on my licence and a £60 fine' I inform him
The shame I feel  for the offence is magnified by his disapproving looks.
Tutting aloud and shaking his head he makes me explain to 4 year old Missy:

Why Mummy had a letter from the police.
Why Mummy must pay money to the police.
The dangers of driving to quick.
Why law enforcement is important to the wellbeing of society.

AC's flippancy almost makes me flip out. But that might mean another lecture to Missy about Why Mummy should have more self control.

Inflatables

Is it a slide?
Is it a bouncy castle?
Whatever it is, our family gathering wouldn't be complete without it.

All families have their different traditions. Whenever Chells come together we choose to inflate this, whatever this is, and watch with amusement as the kids hurl themselves down it. They begin in a conventional manner with an 'on their bottom slide', but being the adrenaline junkies that they are, soon come up with more adventurous ways to get their adrenaline fix.

What's that in the background?

The masked assassin

About to pounce/bounce

Collision imminent

It was a near miss
Shemily remains in one piece

The Long Drive

With our families living at opposite ends of the country, no matter where we live, it's always going to be a torturously long drive to visit them. We knew what we were getting ourselves into when we said  'I do'. However, blinded by love, we never really considered the implications of what 3 youngsters confined to their car seats for 5 hours would do to our sanity.

This weekend past we embarked on the 5 hour drive North.
The little darlings behaved impeccably on the way up.
But the journey back down wasn't as successful.

I blame the weather; warm temperatures and clear skys.
Although only a mediocre 19 degrees outside, inside our dark green heat absorbing greenhouse of a car, it was stifling.

Twenty minutes into our journey I provided Shemily with her third drink and received an abhorrent look from AC.  He wasn't happy about the potential toilet breaks and nappy changes that could result.

The further south we drove the hotter it got. The hotter it got the more irritable the children became. The more irritable the children became the more irritable we (the parentals) became. By the time we reached the Midlands we all needed a break.

We parked by the only patch of grass suitable for a 'run around' at Leicester Forest Services.

Rolling with the Big Boys in the HGV car park

The barbed wire was a cause of concern

We struck Gold. On the other side of the embankment we found a field. A place where we could stretch our legs without the worry of the kids throwing themselves in front of a lorry. We frolicked around until the novelty of it all wore off. We all got back in the car feeling good again. 

London Calling

We usually celebrate special occasions with a box of Coco Pops. So I was stunned when AC declared my 28th birthday should be commemorated by a trip into London to see Wicked. With our traditions cast aside he got a bit giddy and even booked us into a 5* hotel the night before, AC and Myself that is, the children remained behind with their Ginger Aunt. A night away wouldn't hold the same appeal with 3 over-excitable octonauts in tow.

Any expectations we had of the hotel were exceeded shortly after booking in when we stepped into the lift. It was gold.

Already more than satisfied with our choice of hotel we were blown away when we entered our room to behold this view.

Tower Bridge behind Tower of London

Now for a good nights sleep and a lie in. The Ginger Auntie wouldn't be enjoying the same privilege.

What the heck? We awoke the next morning at 06:10! At least it was to the hum of London traffic and not to the pounding of my bladder by the jumps of a small child.

We spent the day doing the one thing we usually can't - relaxing. After breakfast we went to Hyde Park for a lie down. After a while we took a break from resting so AC could throw sticks up a tree in hope of freeing a plastic snake he'd spotted. He thought it would make a nice gift for the A-Bomb.

It wasn't meant to be. The snake remained entwined in the branches despite his MANY attempts to free it. We consoled our selves by having another lie down.

The rest of the day was spent drifting between sights, sitting down, and eating.

Wicked was excellent. It was completely unpredictable, there were as many twists and turns as one of AC's ballet routines. However, I was relieved when it finished. I was beginning to feel the repercussions of the 06:10 start and longed for bed. We headed home.

About 300m from the station, the coach we were intending to get home passed us by.We legged it. Finally I was reaping the rewards of my recent jogging efforts. I felt like I was flying through the streets at superhuman speed. And I wasn't out of breath. 

We ran straight to our gate and AC struggled to get through the automatic door to the coach that was leaving. 

But he couldn't. 

Because it wasn't an automatic door. 

It was a locked door. 

We watched as the coach began to pull away. 

The coach driver took pity on us (thank goodness) and signalled for us to go out the side door where he stopped and allowed us to board. How nice. It was worth the trip to London just to experience the warm fuzzy feeling that came over me.