15th March 2010 (Monday)

Beach is good. We went (were driven down to) the beach by Lillian's mum today after school (together with Lillian and her big brother Aiden), and the Non enjoyed it mightily. Rock pools, sand , general clambering about. Lillian's mum brought provisions in the form of (as I understand) biscuits and fruit - I think chocolate and cream biscuits were consumed by the girls (led to believe this by the sight of them sitting down like two old matrons and stuffing their faces for a first, and secondly by the appearance of a Hitler moustache on the Non's upper lip shortly afterwards composed of chocolate smears). Lillian's big brother Aiden was far too skinny and preoccipied in mounting pink jellyfish atop sand castles to be bothered about eating chocolate biscuits - by the angularity of his kneecaps he probably might have been wise to pay attention to additional carbohydrate intake than to the terrestrial disposition of marine invertibrates but there we are, no biscuits ingested. Anyway, they were there for a good couple of hours while we gassed and had a whale of a time.
Meanwhile at school - Oh yes, on picking her up I was (or the NOn was asked) whether we could practice at home 'packing her bag' because she's consistently slow on it and finally the teacher had to succumb to child-pressure and say OK well someone there help her pack her stuff into the rucksack because we're running out of time (he'd been resisting and telling them not to help because Lara was perfectly capable of packing herself, but them I think he was beaten to a pulp by the pressure of Non-resistance and obstinacy and said as aforementioned). She really will do anything at all to get out of any type of physical exertion imaginable - I think she must have been a Chinese Empress in her previous life or nothing will explain the reluctance to pick up anything heavier than a grain of rice accidentally stuck to her upper lip. in any case she seemed to be pretty happy with life in general today, even if primary teachers thought there might have been something left to be desired.
Will note down recipe for this evening's repast in other blog later but firstly - barramundi is rather disappointing depite its interesting and exotic sounding name - rather like bream and all those other dreary fish otherwise available at inflated prices. Dull. Am beginning to suspect the the less a fish tastes of the sea and proper fish the more it is prized. Well stuff that. Personally I want taste and character, not some fillamented mush that could be anything. Perhaps harsh of a perfectly presentable white fish but you know, my gorge rises in proportion to market prices - don't care admitting to constitutional skinflintness. And frankly if you were presented with it on a blind-tasting plate and couldn't tell whether it was bream, barramundi, or any other 'decent' white fish that is generally considered 'good' as opposed to something with character that'll leap off a plate at you and say 'You're now eating - Ocean Jackets! or Tuna! or Eel! or Mackerel! or Sardines!'... the list goes on by you see my gist. Mind you, I'd rather not be hit in the face by something saying you're now eating mullet, or carp, but anyway - usually they're relatively pleasant. However, the Non liked it. Which is a great plus. but again couner-however, we asked which she would prefer, this one or ocean jackets, and she opted for ocean jackets. In the end that girl will come out good, I tell you.
Off to bed. Lots of love to you all, V xxx