A winning hand

I am reeling with shock.

Somehow, our scratch quiz team romped to victory at the village hall on Friday night. Armed with plenty of wine, glasses and pencils (in that order) Mr Grigg and I were joined by Mrs Bancroft and Number One Son. But there were no Bible questions for Mrs B or complicated physics equations for the boy. So how did we do it? We're still not sure. We thought we were pretty rubbish. But I guess the 80 or so others in the hall must have been more rubbish than we were.

Something that became apparent, though, is that the Number One Son, Golden Balls, Angel Child, has become very knowledgeable about playing cards since going to university. Did you know, for example, that the King of Hearts is called the Suicide King because he has a dagger in his hand? The boy did. He also guessed, correctly, that the spring flower whose name in Turkish means 'turban' is tulip. So I can't blame that last answer on evenings spent playing poker when he should be studying.

The Suicide King: careful with that dagger, Eugene

We won a bottle of wine each, three raffle prizes, and containers of mustard and tomato ketchup (don't ask, this village is just like that). My basket was fuller when we left than when we arrived. I could see the competitive Mrs Loggins bristling on the next table. Ha!

The spoils of war

We called in at the pub on the way home to celebrate but there was no sign of Super Mario and his wife, Princess Peach. They have been running the place temporarily as well as doing their day jobs and were having a well deserved break that night. The appointment has not been plain sailing this week, with complications from quarters that should know better. We salute the two of you for soldiering on. (But please Mario, don't forget about repainting my front door).

Yesterday, Number One Son and Number One Daughter bombarded me with gifts and good wishes. 'Aren't you lucky to have such good children as us?' Number One Daughter said. 'We've never caused you any trouble, have we?' I don't think luck really came into it, dear daughter, as you then went on to say you were both terrified of me when you were growing up. Not what you want to hear on Mothering Sunday, is it?

My own mother and mother-in-law were visited too. The latter was treated to lunch by Mr Grigg and his brothers and we popped in at the former's on the way back. As we sat down for a cup of tea and a slice of my father's cake, my mother did what she does best - telling stories about my extended and rather strange family. The best quote was when she described my dad's cousin, now in his 70s and living in a mobile home inside a hayrick, as being once 'as handsome as paint'. Farrow and Ball, probably. And that reminds me Super Mario - did I mention the door?

That's about it
Love Maddie x

PS I said last week I would be telling you about our trip to Hugh Fearlessly-Eats-It-All's place in Axminster. I will leave that for later in the week. However, the news is that MasterChef Mat Follas could soon be opening a restaurant in a town three miles away. Watch this space.