(almost finished blouse)
This week has felt nonstop. To such an extent, even the children were insisting on a day at home by Thursday. Doing nothing. OK. Suits me, except…
I don’t blame them. We have packed a lot in. Friday evening we went to a harp recital which was fantastic. I had no idea that the harp could do so much. Rock and roll, spanish and more. Amazing to see the different styles. The Teen is working towards her next grade in harp and there has been a slight lull in her practising, so I has hoping it would reinvigorate her love of playing, which I think it’s done.
Next morning, the Teen headed off for a Parkrun with her father. Middle daughter sat it out this week, which was good as she helped me get ready for the weekend camping. By lunchtime, the other two had returned and we were heading down to Exmoor.
We stayed in a camp site in Doone Valley (of Lorna Doone fame), beside the river. A magnet for the children. Not the quietest location, due to the sound of the rushing water, but the dramatic landscape more than made up for it.
(wishing I had brought their wetsuits)
Exmoor is covered in heather at the moment. The children couldn’t resist running through it at every opportunity, sending up clouds of pollen. The smell of the heather was stronger than I think I have ever experienced. So many honey bees too. We got a walk or two in, between showers fortunately.
After two nights, we headed home. Very tired. By the time we had unpacked the car and trailer, put on a load of washing, I flopped.
(yes, those are black cows at the end of the obstacle course)
The next day, I enticed the children back into the car and headed to Dyrham Park to meet up with cousins and my sister. The formal gardens seemed a world a way from the wildness of Exmoor. It was lovely to meet up with them all. Giving the cousins a chance to hang out together.
No let up the next day. Time for me to take the children over to see my parents. Bit more relaxing this time. Lovely to catch up with them and enjoy their garden. Coming home with armfuls of rhubarb and other kitchen garden yummies.
(just a few of the patterns)
My mother had been going through her sewing collection and dug out a boxful of 1970s patterns for me, along with fabric and trimmings. My kind of heaven. Christmas and birthday rolled into one. I am now matching fabric to pattern for possible future projects. I can’t get over how contemporary some of these patterns feel.
That brings us up to Thursday. A few errands to run in town, but a more relaxing day at home. I caught up with a bit of work and sewing. Top photo shows the progress with my English Garden blouse. Not much more to do before my ta-da moment. I can’t wait.
This week deserves the title of nonstop. Hoping for a quieter week next week. If only to catch up with the washing.
I’ll admit to being a dragon fan. One of my favourite things to craft. I can’t resist a dragon legend. The fact that these legends seem to pop up in all corners of the world, is fascinating in its own right. So when we heard of a legend, practically on our doorstep, we had to investigate.
The Bishops’s Palace in Wells has opened a play area based around a dragon legend. Tucked between the allotments and the towering walls. It is so well planned. A place to explore and inspire imaginative play.
There is a tunnel that leads to a story telling area. We missed that day’s story, but something tells me that tall tales were still told and heard, as they hung out in the tunnel.
Seeing as this is Wells, with myriads of natural springs, it was only right that there would also be a water pump for the children to try.
Sending water down a zig-zagging route to a bucket that would never hold much.
There were bridges to cross,
mazes to escape,
trees to climb and
dragons to stroke and dream of keeping as a pet.
Not forgetting battlements to conquor.
I loved the natural materials and the open ended play that it provided. Plenty of room for imagination to fill in any gaps in the stories. To tempt all ages, me thinks.
I listened to a mother helping her young son to tell a story, as he rushed around acting it out. I smiled. My own children are older and don’t need my story telling encouragement so much now. They have their own stories to tell. Delightful and fun. Spurred on by each other. Very much their stories, not mine. Their stories are part of a game that they play together. It is fascinating to see them grow. In imagination too.
This is a play area to encourage imagination, rather than daring deeds. Especially as the dragon will never be forgotten now, so no need to worry about the 50 years curse….hey!
Or is there…? I mean, have you seen those teeth? I’m not sure. It could be a trick of the light, but I’m certain I saw the eyes move, a minute ago. Did anyone else? Just me. Ah. Well. I’ll leave you to it then. All the same, I wouldn’t get too close, if I was you. Up to you, of course. Oh look. That time already. Might just head home while it’s still light. Fare you well. See you soon….. I hope.