Bonfires, Building, Beach Huts, Ballet and a Very Big Wind

Well, there was cooking too, but that doesn’t begin with “B”, although I could have added “Baking”, I suppose.

A recipe coming up soon, but a quick tour of the last 10 days in Bexhill. Oh, there you go, anther “B”.

Meetings with previously unmet, long distant cousins from New Zealand, gave us some happy meals together and a night out in Hastings to celebrate their annual Bonfire Festival (which has nothing to do with Firework Night, or Guy Fawkes Night).

IMG_20131019_211205

Lots of loud noises, an enormous bonfire, spectacular fireworks and a very good evening with mulled wine.

Walks on the beach with the pups past the very typical seaside beach huts.

IMG_20131020_125512

Building works continue with wallpaper stripping being my current job.

IMG_20131024_160252

Time too for a little fun, and also some culture. Last night we went to watch the Moscow Ballet perform Swan Lake at the De La Warr Pavilion. It was Big Man’s first time at the ballet, so I was excited for him to see something spectacular, to have his breath taken away. Alas, it was not to be. A rather lacklustre performance with some seriously out of time ballet.

Some of the swans looked suspiciously duck-like with their thick thighs and broad shoulders and the White Swan and Black Swan were so very different I felt like yelling out to the Prince “Oi Mate, you need to get to Specsavers…she’s The Wrong Bird”.

All the way through I was distracted with thoughts of a very funny sketch by two female comedians French & Saunders and the world famous ballet dancer, Darcey Bussell…or Barcey Dussell as they call her. If you have 15 minutes to spare, pour yourself a glass of wine or make a cup of coffee and have a giggle with me.

And then over the weekend, the forecast of great winds in the south of England. Time to batten down the hatches and prepare. An enormous tree in a neighbour’s garden has been slowly pushing down our back garden wall.

Tree (2)

Finally the local council gave permission for it to come down and fortunately the tree surgeons saw how dangerous it was and came round to start work before the “Great Storm” hit.

Tree Stump (1)

So, it’s been a busy time for us. We have been cooking up some good food too, and I promise you a lovely recipe of Chicken Cacciatore (sort of) next.

Pollo Cacciatore (3)

What I am sure of though, is that Ballerinas don’t eat food like this and that Builders like Big Man and Chica (whilst unlikely to ever sport tights with a cod piece or a sticky out tutu) need hearty dishes to see them through the hard work and the gale force winds.

The Full Spanglish – Breakfast for the Workers

As ever right now, I´m slow to post. This week has been crazy with plumbers ripping up floorboards to install the central heating, the plasterer finishing the walls and ceilings and Big Man putting his foot through the bathroom floor into the new kitchen ceiling below.  Mmm…at least no one was hurt apart from a few skinned fingers (the plasterer), pride (Big Man), a huge purple bruise that looks like a large map of Australia (that´ll be Big Man again) and two bruised knees (me, rushing up the stairs to see if Big Man was ok and tripping over myself and landing on those knees).

The weekend, which is now just a distant memory, was restful though. Saturday night took us into local town, Hastings, to watch an incredible torch light procession, a massive bonfire on the beach and an incredible firework display.

Sunday morning we planned on a long walk with the pooches so set ourselves up for the day with a hearty English breakfast with the substitution of sausages with chorizo. All cooked in the oven apart from the eggs and mushrooms, it was not so naughty and oh so nice.

A wonderful walk round the grounds of the ruins of Bodiam Castle, and the dogs had fun glaring at the ducks as they had to be kept on leads and couldn´t chase them.

Cake in the tea shop was almost obligatory, so we obliged.

And then it was back to work.

Getting down and dirty with a Victorian drainage system….

No rest for the wicked, so they say. We must have been very wicked in a past life!