After a month of illnesses at our place, everyone seems finally to be back on deck. A little tired and worse for wear in some respects, but all the better for the unexpected time together. So with the previously house bound in mind, we headed out the other weekend for Anzac Day on a family picnic. The weather is just holding off, with sunny days, but chilly winds reminding you to make the most of it while you can.
We packed the basket, filled the thermos with hot tea, grabbed some extra layers to keep warm and a bottle or two of cider to keep the chill at bay. Way back in the day, family picnics were the norm when it came to weekend entertainment. When I was growing up, the whole extended family would meet in a park with baskets and bikes in tow, while Nana filled the blankets with all manner of home made slices, cakes and tea. I have very strong memories of my Grandmother standing in the middle of the park in her apron, handing out golden Anzac Biscuits from a large tin. Some even had that soft, squishy texture of goodies baked that morning and hastily packed away for the day. I would then spend the day eating egg salad sandwiches under the shade of a large tree, reading with only ants for company until I was compelled to risk the safety of my knees on a little blue bicycle.
These are the sorts of things I’d like for my girls to remember. Not childhood memories filled only with Saturday morning cartoons, but the sorts of adventures they had themselves, exploring, eating, experiencing.
Miss Five in her Tram Conductor’s best
My lovely friend Mistress C.
Pink Angora Cardigan – Made by Mum circa 1980
Pink knit top – Retrospect’d clothing
High waisted plaid pants – Retrospect’d clothing
Shoes – Keds
Snood – eBay
Flowers – by me
Cherry hairclip worn as brooch – My Little Rockabilly
Bag and scarf – Vintage