Mothers’ Day really should be called Food Day. Eating, eating, eating, drinking, eating. It was lovely, though. And changing it to Food Day would solve the question of whether it’s Mother’s Day or Mothers’ Day. It’s clearly a pressing issue.
But there really was quite a bit of food. Dad barbecued some rather large steaks and some chicken, and we also had some pastry things filled with mince and cheese. All washed down with red wine and ginger beer. And then the desserts come out! Mum made a pavlova (that doesn’t need to be capitalised, does it?) and a whole orange cake (that’s where you put the whole orange in, instead of just zest and juice, and then everybody comments on the texture), and we had walnut slice left over from before. And then this was washed down with tea and coffee. And continual snacking. And then port.
It was a pretty good, spent mostly outdoors, for a change. The weather was great and Dad bought an outdoor gas heater (like at cafes!) that we turned on as it got cooler. We played Harry Potter Uno (I won the last game, which made up for the fact that I lost all the others) and in the evening I learned to play Stairway to Heaven on guitar. Yet another step in my journey to learn how to pretend to play guitar! Hurrah!