Little Owl and I spent a morning on the allotment planting out strawberry runners on a bare patch and putting the dahlias to bed. None of the old chaps dig their dahlias up for the winter so we’ve followed their advice, cutting down the stems of ours after the first frost and covering them with a cosy blanket of manure. The last job I must fit in before the end of November is sowing my broad beans in the vague hope I’ll outwit the black fly next year.
Last week I joined the other PTA mums (sadly, we are only mums!) for a zoom meeting (remember when the verb ‘to zoom’ meant something totally different?!) to discuss Christmas. It’s strange thinking about December without a nativity, carol concerts, or the Christmas Fayre. We’ve been putting our heads together to think of ways to make it Christmassy for the children anyway, including a virtual Christmas party where one of the teachers puts on a disco in the hall which we beam into each of the class rooms. It could work!
I have yet to break the nativity news to Wren. As a reception child, this would have been her big year. With her halo of white blond curls she would have been a shoo-in for an angel. She’s been practicing hard for several of the nativity roles, prancing around the house in full fancy dress. Did you know one of the kings was actually Queen Elsa from Frozen? We only learned she had worn a pink frilly tutu under her uniform to school today because one of the TAs let us in on the secret having helped Wren in the loo!