Lemon tree, oh so pretty.

I love a lemon cake and I'm even happier when I can use home-grown lemons from my tree. Baking is quicker on my own, but more fun with the boys. They run to get the little stool so they can reach the bench and pester me constantly for a taste. Climber is getting quite competent now with the egg-cracking and all, and they both love doing it. Of course, this is mostly to do with licking the bowl and the beaters at the end of the process. We used to call it the scrape when I was little. As in May I have the scrape please?

I used this recipe from The Elegant Sufficiency and it is as she says dead-easy and tangy. I was visiting her blog after she wrote an article about blogging in the Sunday Age a few weeks ago, featuring Poppalina. I was pathetically excited when Shula's name came jumping out of the newsprint at me. I've met her!! I may never be famous but I know some famous people. Which is just as good.

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We had our parent teacher interviews this week, for both creche and school. Both kids are doing fine.

The Cherub is happy and settled and my only complaint is he doesn't do enough artwork for me to have as a tangible reminder of his days at creche.

I'm finding myself slightly surprised to discover that Climber is achieving academically at a higher level than he is physically. Not that I thought he was stupid or anything. Or that he's underachieving in PE - he's right on the norm. It's just he's always been such an active kid, climbing up window sills before he could walk, getting out of the cot and up the slide at a ridiculously early age, good hand/eye co-ordination, kicks a ball well etc etc. So I've just always thought of him as Mister Physical and was envisaging a cushy retirement based on his earnings as star goalkeeper for Manchester United. As you do.

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More on the great love story of this century, Angelina and the Climber. (Can you tell how much I'm enjoying this?) She is smart, that girl. How's this for a tactic? She's been working her charm on The Cherub so that he's besotted with her and has been pestering me to have her over for a playdate, something the Climber has never requested. And!! As I was waiting for my turn to speak with Climber's teacher, I perused the self-portraits on display. Climber is up top, centre. Beneath his *masterpiece* is Angelina's self-portrait and check it out. Because it's not just her in that picture. She's with a boy! They're virtually holding hands. Damn the school holidays. I won't find out for ages if it's Climber!!!

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Finally, I have now had the hangover I felt I was owed. On Wednesday we had a girls' night out (with one honorary husband) for the Prep-T gang and we had a great time, only someone left the red wine bottle(s) right in front of me. You know that level of drunkenness when you giggle at yourself in the mirror in the bathroom? And where you have to focus really, really hard just to follow the conversation? That was me. So I took it nice and easy on Thursday and was doing alright, but it hit me like a brick halfway through the second tap class I was teaching that night. The worst thing was that I couldn't work out what was wrong with me for a minute or two. Once I knew I was able to deal with it. Made it through, just.