Decorating the garden for Easter

The garden decked out in Easter colours ready for an egg hunt

This is obviously enormously after the fact, but I was thinking the other day about all of the ways in which our garden makes us as a family happy. And one of the ways has to be how we basically use it as an extra room. I’ve always encouraged GarlicBoy to be outside, and we go for our walks even when it’s cold or raining and so it’s a natural extension to have the garden doors open all of the time now. I grew up in Portugal where our house was made of stone to keep the heat out. This resulted in eleven months of perfectly pleasant temperatures and one month of freezing family members clustering around the open fire in the sitting room of the various (seriously dangerous and ancient) gas heaters we scattered about the house. The heaters were those old-fashioned things that you had too heave a massive canister of gas into and then puncture and which made no difference whatsoever to the overall temperature of the room but could make your skin start to crackle like that of a roast chicken if you sat directly in front of them. I can still hear my father saying scornfully that we should simply put another jumper on, that of course it wasn’t that cold (snug in his chair directly opposite one of the rickety Heaters Of Doom) and so I jumped when I heard the same admonition come from my own mouth the other day. It turns out that determination to flood the house with fresh air is genetic, as is spending the winter months of one’s childhood wearing so many woollen layers that it’s impossible to lower your arms completely. Sorry GarlicBoy. Anyway, I digress. My point here is that it’s been lovely having the garden to use as extra house space and never more than on Easter Sunday when the Easter bunny came to visit GarlicBoy and his little friends. Our garden may be tiny but it polished up quite well with a little bunting and some signs to guide them to the eggs. It was a lovely long lunch and the children really enjoyed finding the hidden eggs. Can you see any in the picture?

Getting ready for Easter lunch

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We farm a three acre smallholding in Hampshire, England, having fled London in pursuit of the good life for our little family. We mess about with an assorted menagerie and try to be as self-sufficient as possible in meat and fruit and vegetables whilst enjoying our plot and an outdoors lifestyle with our son. I am the luckiest person that I know.

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