Now ladies.  I must admit that I DO enjoy reading about your vintage sheet collecting (hi, Mel!), and the colourful floral designs we all remember from our childhoods  - making their way from op shop shelves to our home linen cupboards.  BUT due to my own issues of geography (i.e. living in Eastern Europe), I myself don't ever come home from the oppie with these sheets.  The only ones I've got are inherited from my fabulous Grandmother - well worn and loved, and rarely used, because my sons would not appreciate fusions of multicoloured floral sheets on their single beds.

So imagine my surprise when my vintage sheets made a stunning appearance in my life today - on one of those special days of the year - my birthday.

You see, Jem is away on a work trip, and my two younger men (Mik, 7 yrs and Tiss, 10 yrs) went into overdrive this morning, trying to make my birthday special.  Quite amazing to see them rev up and take full responsibility for birthday spoiling, when they realized Jem wouldn't be around to do it.  I heard their alarm go off at 6am this morning, and before I drifted back into fitful dreams of Brazilian Baptist Evangelism, I heard them tiptoeing downstairs and pans clattering in the kitchen. Before I knew it they were waking me with song, and piling home-made cards and presents on the bed (ones that Jem had prepared earlier), and the smell of fried eggs wafted up from the kitchen.

When I finally made it down the stairs I was stunned by the chic dining experience they had conjured up.  There was a MOUNTAIN of fried eggs on the table (yep, Tiss fried up the whole pack), there were two lit candles (they couldn't find any candle sticks so they had fished an empty brandy bottle from the rubbish), there were no knives or forks (c'mon, you can't get it ALL perfect), and last but not least... the tablecloth was one of my gran's blue floral vintage sheets.  And no, the boys didn't know it was a sheet.  They felt sure it was a tablecloth.  And beautifully spread out on the table it was, too.

Best present a mum could ever get on her birthday. And for those of my friends who have daughters - you'd better look out!  And lock up those vintage sheets.  I've got two fine-dining lady-killers in training here!

So my folks are in town this week and we decided to take advantage of the fact that we have inbuilt baby sitters for a few days. We managed to get out last night - invited along some other friends who also have kids. The bar that everyone always seems to end up at was totally packed, wall-to-wall Friday night crowd come along to party and hear a folk band we all know and love.
We do this so rarely - go out without the kids - that we all felt crazily juvenile. I think the young singles that we bumped in to didn't quite know what was happening for all the excited jumping up and down, yelled conversations and rounds of beer that were coming our way. A friend plied me with a new taste sensation - cranberry beer, dark red and thick and sweet, never tasted anything like it before. Certainly didn't taste like beer!
So, one of those moments when you are bowled over by something you used to take for granted - being able to go out to a bar for no reason, unencumbered, with no curfew, free and irresponsible.   So exhilarating!  Pity our heads and bodies are paying for it today.  Ah, that's getting older, I guess.