Henri's Chinese bauble celebrating the new lunar Year of the Rat
The allotment team were scattered like a shattered necklace this weekend. Scarlett had requested some 'me time' at the plot that has been her great joy for the past ten years (and you have to envy her the serenity of weeding solo in the sunshine). Howard has spent the past three days unpacking after moving home. Sarah finally flew to New York to begin her new life away from slugs and sweetpeas. And I spent the weekend catching up on the sort of stuff people do before allotments take over their life.
Lene's Chinese windmill with cuddlier rats than on the plot
The lunar calendar plays a large part in our planting, so it seemed appropriate to spend some of Saturday in Chinatown in honour of the new lunar Year of the Rat. After feasting on dim sum dumplings, we stocked up on paper dragons and Chinese rat souvenirs (cuddlier than the scary rodents we evicted from the bank) and headed to the British Museum. There, the littlest kids marveled at the home-made Chinese lanterns and terracotta army while the bigger kids fretted over what to wear to the London Fashion Week launch later that night.
Sunday took us to Tate Britain to gaze in wonder at the Peter Doig exhibition, which was full of wonder and colour like a Derek Jarman garden. Our favourite Tate exhibition since the Turner, Whistler, Monet. If you get the chance you should go.
But how was your weekend?
