Spring

This morning I was woken by birds I’ve not heard since warmer weather was last here, and when I finally rose I was met with yet another foggy morning and dewy lawns.  The pear trees in our drive are blossoming and I’m certain I heard a fly yesterday. The days are getting longer and the sun, between the showers, is gaining warmth.

The cereal crops are standing glossy and tall, dancing in the wind while the canola is illuminating the roadsides with its pungent, bright yellow flowers. Gardens in the towns are starting to get more colourful and the lawns are starting to grow again. It’s like the land is awakening. As much as a farmer’s wife knows we need a cold, wet winter, I also know we need the spring. If seasons had emotions, spring would be a happy one.

It won’t be long and the kids will be swapping footballs and hockey sticks for basketballs and cricket bats. Winter sports start to get to the serious end of their competitions and farmers begin to ready for canola cutting, hay season and the ensuing grain harvest. The real estate market begins to bloom with the flowers and people start finding the inspiration to exercise just that little bit more. Long pants will make way for shorts and dresses, and Ugg boots for thongs and sandals. The horses will have their big days and so to the carnival folk. Spring is the time for action.

I’ll be enjoying the sunny afternoons with the windows and doors of the house open, eating my lunch in the warm spring sun and cherishing the cool nights practically designed for the most perfect sleep.  We’ll take the kids to the local show and navigate it at a pace much slower than Miss Six would like as we stop to catch up with friendly faces we’ve not seen in a while. We’ll make the most of bonfire season; eating eucalyptus tainted toasted marshmallows from a stick and sausages from the hotplate. The kids will play outside longer. Master Four will find bugs to collect and Miss Six will probably chase more butterflies and pick any bloom daring to show in our garden.  

Lastly, with any luck, the cold and flu season will finally slow right down (and be replaced with hay fever season I suppose!). Yes, spring is nearly here and I am ready to enjoy it. 

Fancy Food

Fancy food has become the norm these days hasn't it? It’s much publicised in the media and we love it.  Shows like Masterchef, My Kitchen Rules and Heston's Feasts have us believing that we need to aim higher with the family meals. Bangas and mash has been elevated to ‘gourmet herb and mince casings served with delicate arrangements of milk saturated whipped Desiree potato and butter’, all garnished with a hint of pompous! The May household has not been spared.

Miss Five graduated to ‘Miss Six’, two birthday cakes were in order. One cake for the maternal family dinner, and another one for the paternal family luncheon.  

According to Daddy Cool, this was cause for competition.  A cake off! Battle lines were drawn. The contest for the best kiddy cake was on!

Gone are the days where a little bit of sponge mix popped in the oven will suffice. No. Thanks to all these television shows and glossy cook books, kids think anything is possible. Some cake designs call for all the skill of an architect and sculptor.

So just how far would this competition go? Comprehensive internet searches for the perfect accessories and methods were conducted. Whole day outings were spent foraging for the perfect ingredients, serving boards and recipes to compliment the cake design.

Much ado was made about cake choice, design, flavour and size. Miss Six didn’t give me much choice. I protest that the selection she made for me was very ‘brown’. An echidna with chocolate sticks for spikes. You can’t do much with that.

Daddy Cool on the other hand, carefully coerced the birthday girl into a more aesthetically pleasing choice. All of the kid’s cake books were placed in front of her with plenty of ‘gentle suggestions’ made. Finally a ladybug design was settled on. Both cute and symmetrically pleasing to the eye with bold vivid colours. Daddy Cool had the upper hand this year.

But who really won this battle of the cakes? Whilst Daddy Cool has long since staked his claim to victory and run a mile with it, it was Miss Six that really won. Two cakes – that’s a great day for any six year old!

The winning cake - owners of the Women's Weekly Kid's Cakes book will recognise this one. But maybe not my phallic looking losing cake...