On our last visit to Christchurch (we left exactly a week almost to the hour before the quake, again), we did something I haven’t plucked up the courage to do at home yet.
We painted. Or rather, Harriet painted.

There were some learning curves at the start. If we squeezed the paint into saucers, she naturally thought they were something both highly colourful and edible. When we squirted small blobs onto the paper, then things started happening.

The only problem then became that things didn’t stop happening.

Let’s just say, it’s wise to run the bath before beginning the painting.