Twenty-eight degrees, hot and sunny. Now I've used the word 'hot' the weather's bound to change and I'll be burrowing through the mountain labelled 'winter clothes to find a home for' looking for something warmer to wear.
Today, Carmine is rampant with school children. And they appear to be doing what European school children on trips out do everywhere they go, be it the Natural History Museum in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a Rhineland schloss, or the Chiesa di San Gottardo in Carmine Superiore.
They're sitting in clusters on every available step (including mine), juggling clip boards and rucksacks.
They're thundering up and down in large, awkward-limbed groups, calling out to one another in some sort of teenager code.
They're chomping their way through their packed lunches hours before lunchtime (when they'll be hungry again).
And they're staring at the residents as if a.) they are made of wax and so won't notice being stared at, b.) they are doing something so outlandish (like mulching the courgettes) that it's liable to be written up in 40 What-I-Saw-On-The-School-Trip essays, and/or c.) they might be a source of the second packed lunch they'll be wanting in an hour's time.
I'm glad it happens only once a year.
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Wednesday, 14 May 2008
And a good time was had by all...
Twenty-eight degrees, hot and sunny. Now I've used the word 'hot' the weather's bound to change and I'll be burrowing through the mountain labelled 'winter clothes to find a home for' looking for something warmer to wear.
Today, Carmine is rampant with school children. And they appear to be doing what European school children on trips out do everywhere they go, be it the Natural History Museum in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a Rhineland schloss, or the Chiesa di San Gottardo in Carmine Superiore.
They're sitting in clusters on every available step (including mine), juggling clip boards and rucksacks.
They're thundering up and down in large, awkward-limbed groups, calling out to one another in some sort of teenager code.
They're chomping their way through their packed lunches hours before lunchtime (when they'll be hungry again).
And they're staring at the residents as if a.) they are made of wax and so won't notice being stared at, b.) they are doing something so outlandish (like mulching the courgettes) that it's liable to be written up in 40 What-I-Saw-On-The-School-Trip essays, and/or c.) they might be a source of the second packed lunch they'll be wanting in an hour's time.
I'm glad it happens only once a year.
Today, Carmine is rampant with school children. And they appear to be doing what European school children on trips out do everywhere they go, be it the Natural History Museum in London, the Eiffel Tower in Paris, a Rhineland schloss, or the Chiesa di San Gottardo in Carmine Superiore.
They're sitting in clusters on every available step (including mine), juggling clip boards and rucksacks.
They're thundering up and down in large, awkward-limbed groups, calling out to one another in some sort of teenager code.
They're chomping their way through their packed lunches hours before lunchtime (when they'll be hungry again).
And they're staring at the residents as if a.) they are made of wax and so won't notice being stared at, b.) they are doing something so outlandish (like mulching the courgettes) that it's liable to be written up in 40 What-I-Saw-On-The-School-Trip essays, and/or c.) they might be a source of the second packed lunch they'll be wanting in an hour's time.
I'm glad it happens only once a year.
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