I am sure that the following is no surprise to those with children about them all the time but Scrip’s recent but all too infrequent visit to the now not so sunny Cornwall set me thinking about how, as children develop language skills, their actions and thought can make perfect sense in the context of their experience whilst not necessarily Continue reading
My dad, AKA Grandy, (who was undoubtedly the hit of the holiday for Scrip) wrote a few words after our recent stay in Cornwall. They made me cry (in a good way). Thank you Grandy and you are always welcome to come and see us in the Big Smoke, chickens allowing.
Just for the record now they have all gone back: IT IS ALWAYS A PLEASURE TO SEE MY FAMILY.
In the far west one gets used to isolation; that and age have combined to produce post-visit exhaustion syndrome. My mind doesn’t recognise my body’s insistence that I’m a 70 plus OAP. For that I’m glad, otherwise I would not have been catching Scrip time after time to stop her falling into the pond as she Continue reading
Although we arrived after 3pm when most of the homemade cakes were gone, leaving just crumbs and tantalising descriptions (like dark chocolate and Guinness), we still had a lovely time at Trevoole Farm at Praze-An-Beeble, just outside Camborne.
A couple of people had mentioned Trevoole to me, saying what a magical Continue reading
A few days in Cornwall and a healthy dose of sunshine and I’m already plotting our move down here. Not sure my husband feels quite the same (much as he loves it here it’s pretty far away from his Kent homeland, I have to admit) but Scrip certainly Continue reading
We’re so lucky my parents live in Cornwall – we can enjoy the best summer holiday England offers or can jump in the car and escape for a long weekend when we feel like it (we do this in our minds – in practice we plan and pack for days before).
The main downside is not having them close by to pop in for coffee and a play or a bedtime story with Scrip. But that does mean when they Continue reading
At the risk of sounding very English, we’ve been so lucky with the weather this week – we’ve been enjoying a week of sand, sea and child-size pasties in my native Cornwall. I can’t remember it being this hot consistently for a week – it’s so much warmer than our week in Limoges was, back in June.
Scrip’s done a lot of running around, too – we’ve hardly had the pushchair out. We’re fortunate enough to be able to stay with my parents with lots of things to see and do – like feeding the chickens, putting pebbles in the paddling pool (she’s not that keen on putting herself in it just yet) and destroying the sand castles we enthusiastically and carefully make for her. We’ve been to the beach, which is just 5 minutes down the road, each day – going after her dinner which has been perfect timing for low tide, the temperature and to tire her out before bedtime, which has crept back to 8pm this week…
I’m keen that Scrip gets used to the sea – so we’ve had lots of encouragement and shallow paddling. It’s helped that there are quite a few little ones running in and out of the water for her to copy. She’s christened the wetsuit she had for Christmas from her Cornwall grandparents – it’s been great. It’s easier to put on than the wetsuits I remember struggling in and out of when I was little, and there’s room to grow, so that it should still be useful next year. It’s a baby shortie from Two Bare Feet. It’s also helped that there’s been very little surf each day – so even though we’re on the north coast we haven’t had to worry about waves crashing around her.
It’s here, with all its festive jingles, glittery tinsel and sparkly lights. Not to mention midnight masses and harmonious carols. I’m certainly getting into the spirit – I had a lovely evening at Regent’s Park on Monday listening to some beautiful Christmas songs sung by some amazing singers. And much as I thought it would be just another season for Scrip, passing her by in much the same way our first summer holiday and first Autumn walk did, she actually seems to be taking note. The baubles are a frequent source of wonder and the advent calendar is better than any pop up book.
I won’t be rushing out buying mammoth lists of toys and games and helping her write a letter to Santa just yet, but we’ve agreed she would actually like a stocking and a few bits and pieces wrapped up in tissue to open on Christmas morning. Not to mention a satsuma or two, which randomly seem to be a good teething aid (provided by Abel and Cole, of course…)
I can’t wait for the break – to spend more time with her and equally to be able to let other people enjoy time with her too. And for her to see both sets of grandparents – particularly my dad (or ‘Grandy’, as we affectionately call him, repeatedly) who hasn’t seen her since August. She might even enjoy her first taste of turkey (I’m hoping it goes down better than chicken which, judging by her reaction, is akin to sprout pate for her fledgling taste buds). And I can’t wait for our annual (or now every other year) trip to the beach on Christmas day. She may not be able to walk off her lunch independently, but she’ll definitely enjoy a look at the roaring sea and dogs racing up and down the shore.
So, I’m pleased to say the first Christmas may just be marked in 9-month old Scrip’s calendar as much as it will be in ours.