Fruit and Vegetables

Last week, I had occasion to take little SG, who is Small Grandson, to the bus stop early in the mornings. We had some time to spend, once his mother had gone, so we talked about school, and what he is currently doing.

He had a paper thing he called a Chatterbox. I have seen them before, we used to play with them at school, and later our children had them. You fold the paper certain ways to make the box. We mostly made them with colours and numbers and slightly rude/insults, things were always written under the final flap to lift.
I should have taken a photo of the one SG had, it was printed on paper, and the children had coloured the fruit & vegies. The final flap asked how many fruit or veg you could think of beginning with a letter of the alphabet.

The children are obviously being encouraged to learn all about healthy eating, & urged to eat more fruit & vegetables. I asked SG what his favourite vegetable is.

He stunned me by saying "Eggplant".
I know for a fact he has never eaten eggplant in his life! I asked why he chose that, & he replied he loved the colour. Fair enough I guess!
One of these days he might discover the joy of eating prawn stuffed eggplant, a Chinese dish that his mother, sister, & I adore!!

At the bus stop, standing in the morning sun, I looked at his little thin legs, so white, under his baggy pants. I took some photos, but they did not seem to record what I saw.

"Look Nanna! I am standing on your head!"

We had missed the bus, the morning before. My fault really, since we were discussing a class room full of sniffing little children, & how awful the teacher must find that! Bus roared past, so we had to belt up & tear around to the third bus stop. I swear the driver drove faster than normal!

Gom has been a kindly neighbour & mowed the lawn of our friend Mr NN, (Nice Neighbour)who has just had surgery to remove Gall stones.

Mrs NN sent me home a bunch of these lovely flowers. I think they are of the Protea family, but am not totally sure about that.

WARNING

A Sunday morning rant.

Sitting outside in the indecentunseasonal heat, enjoying peace and tranquility of mind....

ROARRRR, ZOOOM, RACKET RACKET RACKET. ZACKETTA HACKETTA RACKETTA.

I have moaned about this sad ruination of my peaceful Sunday before. Why do the neighbourhood inhabitants choose Sundays to mow, hack, whipper-snip & generally run motors of reeking petrol, or spray some hideous glue/paint/resinous substance, which we end up ingesting unwillingly & probably most unwisely???

Our son tells us Switzerland has the right idea. There is nothing of that sort allowed on a Sunday. I do not think it is because they are particularly pious. I think it is because they realise there is a need for some tranquil peace! One day a week seems not too much to ask.

Or perhaps I am wrong...

Sweet Child o Mine, Sheryl Crow