An age old tradition The Harbour Swim, you have to have a certain postcode to enter, only those who live near. The locals come to watch and take part, today the weather was like Summer, it was blissful. We meet with friends and we drink and eat, the children swim in the sea and the little one did her first pier jump, and so the next generation of pier jumpers are born. Another age old tradition!
Last week the Bluebell girl had her second surf lesson, she was cold but thrilled. The beach the evening was empty but the sun shone. I love living here.
The Bluebell girl is learning to surf, her love for the ocean runs deep, I swear she has a touch of mermaid blood running through her.
It was a late lesson on this sunny September day, as we arrived the scattering of locals were packing up to leave, it was just us, the little one and the big one. She wandered off down the beach to where the tide was out with her instructor. She looked so dainty on the expanse of sand, so small.
She doesn’t want to surf to win any contests, she just loves the sea, she wants to be in it, this is the best way for her to connect.
I know she was a little scared, I know its a big thing for her, but i loved her face as she caught a wave, her shy smile of delight.
We climbed rocks and the early evening sun shone on our faces, it was just us. Fleur ran and jumped, she played with sand and waved her school friends off on their way home. I love living here, I cant imagine how I ever survived without Cornwall. Our children know no different, this is home, where the sea crashes into our town and we wake to the cry of seagulls, where our house is always covered in sand, and every pocket and bag has a scattering of sand in it. We live the life of the beach, its part of us now, but the Bluebell has one up on us, she has chosen the sea to be part of her.
As the early evening approached as did the rain, most ran for cover and as so it meant that they missed the magic.Across the sky a rainbow appeared, In the middle of the beach the rainbow came to the end. I watched the flower girls run to find their pot of gold, delighted in this moment that may never happen again, as they got nearer the rainbow moved, they didn’t get to run through the spectrum of colour but they had fun trying. From where I stood i saw the loveliest little girls I know running toward a rainbow on a near on empty beach in the middle of August and it was magic.
Today it was cold, September is here the summer is ending. The beach we always go to, our special place was empty. The cold wind had caused ripples in the sand and the bluebell girl was amazed. She told me how she loved the sand ripples, she said she could see it almost shimmering. She liked that no one had walked on it, there were no foot prints. When the sea is crystal clear ,she told me, she sees ripples on the sand too, under the sea. I just love the fact she notices such things and I love the fact she cares enough to pass comment to me.
When she got home she added to her fairy door offering. A few drawn snowflakes, a trail of tiny buttons, a sign that says Fairys welcome. What a wonderful world she must live in, theres so much going on in her head.
Her friend had some bad news today, she shared it with me and I was glad she could. She wanted my advice i think, she also wanted to make it all ok again for her friend. Some problems cant be solved by a child. We sat on our empty beach, out hair blowing chatting about this. The place was right for such a serious chat. Soon she was on her feet again, laughing and playing with her sister, jumping the stream and kicking the sand. The holiday makers have long gone, the August rush is over. We have the time and space to enjoy our surroundings and have our chats and not be overheard. I love living here.
We came home frozen and ran a hot bath and drank hot chocolates in the living room overlooking the cold empty beach. The girls wrapped themselves in blankets and watched some TV. I am looking forward to winter now, today seemed to make it feel ok for it to come now.
As i walked into the stables i left like I had walked into an Enid Blighton book. A quite stable yard with cobbled stones, ponies looking out at me, the smell of horses everywhere, four excited girls ready for a whole morning of caring for and riding ponies. As we are in Cornwall the day would end with a pasty, of course!
The office was an old barn a large black tom cat sat on the diary, a loud friendly lady swiped the cat away and told the girls they would be back for elevenses, I almost expected there to be lashings of ginger beer as well thrown in.
I have a notion that learning to ride is a life skill and I also believe that you cant leave it too late. I know if I had had lessons when a child I would surly have a horse now. I love the atmosphere of a farm, I love the calmness of the horses, I even love the smell. There is something earthy and real about it all in this world of stuff I cant quite be bothered with.
This little taster day got them hooked, and I hope that we can continue to let them ride sometimes when funds allow. I want them to have what i didn’t and one day I hope they do get to own a horse then I can have a secret go when no ones looking to laugh at an old lady trying to ride!
We are great fans of the Cornish woodland theater and once again took delight in yet another show. The girls feel almost like they know the cast and look forward to them returning to our local woods. This year however we were introduced to another wood, a wood so wild and random, a wood like no other I have ever seen. A wood filled with adventure and quite possibly a serious health and safety risk. The children loved it they found fairy doors, they found tiny baby frogs, they played games, they ran over ponds, they screamed with delight and when the little one asked if the whole place was magical i was so glad i went. The older one wrote notes for the fairies and left them at the fairy doors in the trees. All of the children we were with that day had an extra sparkle to them when we left the woods that day. A hidden gem, a bit of a secret as not many talk of this little place down a county road with just a daisy as a sign. We will be back when the fairies call.
Another wet day but perfect for the woods with the barefoot trail and the mudpie kitchen. We all embraced the freedom to get as muddy as you liked and the flower girls did the barefoot trail over and over again. On rainy days getting back to nature was what was needed to lift all our spirits.
Why is it called a Bet-ch-room she asked me her eyes wide and full of question. Its been five years and she was an early talker and yet she never knew it was a BEDroom. Although she does know that fireworks are called so because they are made of fire and they work.
She wanted to know if the Pass Plates would make you itch, I didn’t understand this at all, until I realised I told her that you should wear them once you have passed your driving test.
As they grow older the funny things they say are less and less. I want to remember them all. In the last week my little five year old has used the words charming and gazing, such grown up words from a little person. Keep a few funny things back little one you are so cute and full of delight.