…With beauties! Us Rockit ladies of a certain age, seem to have lots of grand babies now. I never once considered this as my own children were growing up. You get through the weening, potty training, tantrums in Tesco, hours spent reading the same bedtime stories, hunting dinosaurs in the park and baking several thousand fairy cakes, only to find you’re doing it all over again…and they’ve multiplied, haha. I am lucky to see so much of my beautiful boys, my Amigos – number four will be here just after Christmas too. Our beautiful boys are all well into their second year now and chatty and so very highly amusing. They also love each other greatly – it’s SO cute to see their excitement each time they meet.
I dislike cars being given names, especially modern cars, which are just huge chunks of characterless metal. However, when I eventually find the VW camper of my dreams, I will give it a name, so my Amigos like it even more. Also, I can encourage it up steep hills, “come on Petal, you can do it!” I’ve got some ideas for names: Blue (Bluebell), orange (Blossom), green (Olive), yellow (Buttercup), cream (Daisy), red (Elmo – the cutest and most lovable Muppet). I saw a lovely brown VW, in gorgeous autumnal colours. Oh autumn, my favourite season, I feel quite excited. I am not a lover of summer – although it is lovely to be able to sit outside in the sun with my gang. Autumn is a sea of change…dragging the winter months in on its coattails. I love the rich, earthly smell after rain and I love the way it makes everything look so glossy and green – yet soon it will fade into those amber shades. Finally, we can ditch the salads and make stews and apple crumbles (not me haha), we can snuggle on the sofa with a blanket and watch TV – it’s beautifully dark much earlier too. Oh yes, autumn is my season. The colours are my favourites too – the rusts, crimsons, golds and greens. Autumn is so lovely, it should be capitalised. Why is it not? I wonder if it’s because it’s not an actual thing, but more, a period of time? Like a general, blanket term?
I had a very nice bank holiday Monday morning out with my folks in T Wells – a little break in my crazy schedule, as I gear up for lots more work and events. We had lunch in this fantastic little Italian restaurant in the town centre. We nearly didn’t go in, because not only was it very tiny, but it was somewhat scruffy too and had plastic chairs like they used to have in the old Wimpy restaurants. Luckily, we did go in… just five tables and a small open kitchen. La Follia is an authentic, totally unpretentious, tiny restaurant (if it was French, it would be a bistro!), run entirely by the couple that own it. They serve very basic, rustic, Italian food, which is just right. No anglicised versions, covered in heavy cream sauces. Nope. The lady is very lovely too and kept saying, “allora,” just like the MFI. This little gem reminded me of the noisy, backstreet, family-run restaurants in Rome, that I spent many happy hours in. Follia means madness in Italian… kind of like folly does in English I suppose. Don’t judge this book by it’s cover…we all gave it top marks!