Skip to main content

Easter bonnets

Somehow, somewhere, an Easter bonnet must have entered my life.

Because when I read the words, "Easter Bonnet Parade" on Toby's pre-school newsletter, I immediately had a few mental associations.  Home-made.  Spring flowers.  Easter eggs. 

I am sure I've never worn one.  I've definitely never made one.  But some kind of folk memory told me what I had to do.

That, and Google, of course.  A few clicks brought up this handy Netmums page, and I thought the chicken-on-a-nest idea looked pretty cute.

Now, of course, for items like this you basically have two options.  You either set your kids loose on it and encourage them to go as crazy as possible so that it is abundantly clear that it is All Their Own Work, and not that you are totally uncreative and/or forgot all about it until the night before.  Or you give in to your competitive streak, banish your children completely and go for top-notch perfection.

Well, I tried for option 2.  Next year I'm letting Toby do it.


The hardest part was getting everything to stay on.  I selected double-sided tape as my weapon of choice, but raffia and straw hats seem to be Teflon-like in their unstickiness.  And then there wasn't really anything to stick the eggs and chicks to.



Toby's initial reaction was, "I don't want to wear a silly hat."  When it came to it, though, he was really excited.  A little too excited.  The other children paraded demurely across the stage and posed neatly in the centre for their parents to take a photo.  As I stood ready, camera focused, Toby hurtled across, parting company with the hat somewhere around the middle.

I had to collar him afterwards for a photo.

Unsurprisingly, we didn't win!  But good fun and chocolate eggs were had by all.  So that's what counts, isn't it?
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Where am I going now? The Portway

I should probably explain why I am pottering around Nottingham and its western suburbs, rather than roaming the Derbyshire countryside. It's not just the abundance of paved paths, although that certainly helps - I recently went on a country walk across a cow field and found myself tiptoeing gingerly across boggy mud cratered with six-inch deep hoof holes. Then I was confronted by a sign which said: Private Property, Trespassers Will Be Prosecuted. I congratulated myself on being on a public right of way, then, a few steps on, consulted the map and realised I wasn't. The path was across a completely different field. nice scenery, though I digress. Apart from the absence of cows and angry landowners, the reason I am walking around Nottingham is that it's the start of the Portway. There is a blog called The Old Roads of Derbyshire , written by a man named Stephen Bailey, who has also published a book of the same name. I can't remember now whether I came across the book fir...
Post a Comment
Read more

Trent Valley: Nottingham

Five churches, four bridges over the Trent, three stocking fillers, two pubs, one castle, and about ten million fallen leaves. It was a packed walk today. Queens Drive Park & Ride is officially for people getting the bus into town, but there's a little bit at the back marked "Overflow Parking" which had a handful of cars in, so I parked there and snuck out through the tunnel. Bridge number one was Clifton Bridge, again , in all its multicoloured glory. The River Trent was swooshing along after the recent rain, beautifully framed by autumn leaves under a grey but thankfully dry sky. The cycle path took an abrupt left to run alongside the road for a short stretch. Then I approached bridge number two, the Wilford toll bridge, also known as Halfpenny Bridge. Sir Robert Juckes Clifton, who built it, has his statue near the old toll house. He was surrounded by grazing geese. Wilford toll bridge Sir Robert and the toll house Next there was a long sweep of grass with a line o...
Post a Comment
Read more

The Portway: Lenton to the Bramcote Hills

It was cold. My fingers were cold, and my phone was cold too. The OS map was totally failing to find my location, and the more I prodded it the less feeling I had in my fingers, so I gave up, shoved both my phone and my chilly hands into my pockets, and set off. After all, I knew where I was. This was Wollaton Park. And the path was very obvious. Just follow the avenue of trees... ...past the deer... ...and out through the fancy gates. Crossing a busy road brought me into a neat little housing estate with unusual round street signs. This was built when Wollaton Park was sold to Nottingham City Council in 1925. The old gatehouse, Lenton Lodge, is now estranged from the rest of the park, and stands by itself next to Derby Road. The bridge used to go over the Nottingham Canal, which has now been turned back into the River Leen. The unfortunate river got shoved out of the way whenever someone came up with a new building project. This is not its original course. My hands were warming up sli...
Post a Comment
Read more