Life on a Cornish Farm

The pretty Harbourside town we live in is made up of narrow streets, steep hill,steps and strange gardens that you have to walk up to, never just outside your back door. However just a few miles drive out in land and you enter a different way of life, where on the roads you are more likely to encounter a horse than a car, farm dogs run free and cats curl up not inside but in barns and stables. Today the flower girls spent the day with their friend in a 16 century farm house, running free through fields, riding ponies, picking flowers, the other side of Cornish life, and they had the time of their lives. Little Fleur said the best part was riding , the bluebell girl said ” just all of it”

Muddy wellies are in the porch and handfuls of daffs are in jugs on my kitchen table and when I put them to bed and kissed their heads their hair still smelt of the outside and horses.

As Cornwall prepares itself for spring, the sun shining, but still a harsh nip to the air. Our local fields streaked with yellow as the pretty daffs grow and blow in the wind. The roads are clogged with pickers cars and weather beaten men are bent over in half in the fields. The farmers markets and veg shops are now plentyfull, but its only going to get better. We are waiting for the surf lifesaving to start off again in the sea, praying the wetsuits from last year still fit. Its a time of change, new beginnings and children having fun.