The rain has held off for the Easter weekend but only just. A beach outing didn't look like a wise move so it was the back garden for lunch. We managed to have a BBQ after a lot of briquettes, lighters and matches (all rather damp from sitting around a couple of years I think) had been coaxed into life by the King of Fire himself, recently back, weather-beaten and blistered, from three days sailing round Skye in the school's 80ft yacht. Hard life.

The women did the (entirely unimportant of course) preparation - I love mixing marinades; the Moroccan lamb was the best, lots of cinnamon, cumin, coriander and so on, but the spare ribs, not shown here, were not bad at all with honey, chili and ketchup. We sat inside the French windows to eat, enjoying the smokiness and shouting encouragement..

Back to work tomorrow. The schools are all back which means bonnets and parades and barbecues have to be Sunday. Not very traditional. London daughter has a three day week this week though as they do get Easter Monday off AND the Royal Wedding day, which we are choosing to ignore also. Xander's school is doing something that involves different clothing and jollity so that's a plus.

On a grumpy note: I finally discovered why eggs get rolled down hills - it's taken me a while. It's to commemorate the rolling away of the stone from the tomb. The stone was egg shaped apparantly, Loud 'Oh Yeah?' from the back here. Yet another example of the upstart new religion absorbing the old by rolling right over its symbols.