Wednesday is H's birthday . Seven already and I have finally had to give in to having a party. L has had two so it seemed only fair. As a result yesterday I had to negotiate Asda for the usual party fare and a barrow load of sweets etc. I decided to get a giant pizza from the counter, an ordeal that I often subject myself to and then wonder why. It always gets my blood pressure rocketing. After standing so long that my feet were taking root, the person on the counter finally decided to serve me. Honestly, if ever there was a candidate for a rocket enema she was it. Wandering about 'as if the dead lice were dropping off her' (my Grannie's saying for those diddling about in a trance like state), she served me with a vacant expression. All the lights were on but there was definitely no one at home. I swear to goodness, when I die and reach the pearly gates and if I have been bad, the Boss is going to make me spend purgatory in the queue at the Adsa pizza counter, always waiting and never getting served......
Up this morning bright and early to cook pizza and make rolls for the party. H had picked the local pottery studio for the venue. Staffed by two lovely ladies who have the patience of saints, it's just the place to take eleven rowdy four to nine year olds. We had the place to ourselves as they very kindly opened early for us. After choosing a piece of pottery to paint with more shades of glaze than you can imagine, the kids settled down to create their own little masterpieces. We had multicoloured cats, cupcakes, technicolour dinosaurs and pretty fairies all ready for the kiln. After decorating bags for them to go in, the food was served, a couple of games of pass the parcel were played and two hours were gone. Fantastic! Everyone had a great time or so it seemed. Headed off home to sort the devastation we had left that morning.
Here's a link for our great wee pottery place :