No, despite the title, this is not new reflections on life in blended families. But just a glimpse of what a Sunday gives us ... normal Sunday.
- Sunday, Machin is coming we will repeat the sound.
Since the elder son, Beau, and have offered a mini-recording studio with money from their summer work studio in the room of the Elder, the Elder Board of ground floor bay window to the side yard, their "apartments" are full. The positive is that we no longer have to make a Sunday trip across the valley (and it is our great valley, especially if there are also the sides as the two massive nest mates!). By cons, our home, both geographically central and well supplied gear becomes the haunt of those guys. Many fellas, we discover from Sunday to Sunday.
Sunday Lunches are late, the hordes of friends musicians usually begin to break before. Finally, as far as I know ... the lair of the Elder being directly accessible from the outside without further formality, they often arrive without my Be informed. Sweet and I did not formalize, one more in the home does not change much the final number!
Sunday currently has therefore often a few surprise guests ... more when I say "surprise" is that when sitting down to eat, the Elder announced that there Machin who has not eaten, and not tip over and that finally it will set the table on the terrace (a chance, it's nice sunday!) for 6, with their four additional friends. Never mind, I do like my mother did 30 years ago with my friends to me, is known for improvising double table.Quand people are prepared to 7, be prepared for 11 or 12 ... Today was skate wings-lemon sauce, broccoli cream (neither seen nor known broccoli melted into a nice lemon sauce!) With some rice and potatoes for the others. Zou. String together a little nap in the frog, have it sleep in our room upstairs, away from the music studio and let the artists and repeat, compose, sing, strum guitars and (whew, the battery is electronic, thank you new technology!) in peace! Grant itself yourself a little time to rest while listening to the song of the week, before tackling the taste of the horde (3 gallons of pancake batter, or brioche bread machine or a giant chocolate-banana cake according leftover bananas chard) Watch the liters of milk is emptied, the cake or crepes or brioche down in 5 minutes and the horde would return to his lair ...
And when night falls at the edge of the afternoon, landing in front of his computer without scruples, let the sweet deal for ironing and say that tomorrow is Monday and it is time I start doing my soaps to offer for Christmas.
A Sunday like any other ... up next. And the full house, herds of groumpfs to feed, I love it! (It allows me a apart from having the boys in front, and secondly to know who they are attending ... it is cool but it is still Mom!)
that, I'm going to make soaps with cocoa butter scent.
good week!
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