This year for the first time we wrote to father Christmas; The Bluebell only asked for one soft toy and the little one for nothing, she wrote that she hopes father Christmas has a nice time!
We went to a farm this year to buy our tree, the farmers wife was not impressed I arrived with no wellies as we were supposed to trek across the muddy fields to chose our tree ourselves. We chose the one that had been cut. I actually this year wanted to buy one from a supermarket in a pot but was stopped in my tracks when the bluebell girl told me the meaning of Christmas for her, and it went like this; ” Christmas for me is to be lifted up high to place the star on the very top” then she added in her dry voice she has ” and those Tescos ones are so small I could just place it on with no help at all” I laughed, but loved that’s what Christmas is about, she has an old fashioned soul.
The usual madness of Christmas has started, me dashing about trying to squeeze it all in, the days flying by. School plays and discos and church services, its all go. But in a lovely way. The kids are so excited and happy. The harbour town we live in is finally twinkling with lights and all good with the world.
So the baby of the family turns six. I cant believe it the time has passed so fast. Her party seemed to involve hundreds of children, about 50 really, but it felt like hundreds! . It was fun and crazy, a magic show, fireworks, sparklers, lots of fun and noise. She was on stage with her friend , the two of them made a great double act! Her face when the cake came out was a amazing, she loves the attention and the wonder. The next day we took a family holiday where we swam and shot down water slides. It was fun and the girls embraced it all. The little one did her first rapids and was hooked, we had to shoot down them so many times in the day. I am battered and bruised, but happy. It was this month we also took a visit ‘home’ the town where us parents were born. The girls love it here, there’s a sense of belonging to an extended family. The time spend with friends children is amazing , a true connection. We went to a festival of light for the hindu celebration and then a celebration of light at Longleat. Fleur decided that she would be living n a house just like the Thai palace, while the bluebell girl stared in wonder at the dragon. The house was beautiful and the fairy tale characters enchanting, but nothing beat the big cats.
This brings me onto the tail or tale or poor Tom Chestnut, our little black rescue cat. Last February he was knocked by a car. We had a long journey of trying to save a very manky tail. The lovely girls took it all in their stride, they loved him and cared for him, through the dripping blood for weeks to the massive bandages, the countless visits to the vets, they never gave up hope for him to save his tail. Their kindness made me proud. But the drawing that came home of the cat with the red tail made me laugh and the cat with the bandaged tail. The clay cat made at school whose head them fell off made me chuckle, but the little one wasn’t upset by this mishap she shrugged it all off, as she does with many a mishap in life. The (real) cats tail had to go in the end, we could not save it. Cries of ” its his nature. you cant cut it off” will always be with me. But it had to go, and again they nursed and loved him back to health and he loves them so much for it.
The summer slipped into Autumn, the streets emptied out. We seemed to spend a lot of time on beaches waiting for waves, or waiting for surf instructors. Its a new dimension for the Bluebell girl she has found a passion.
The little one still skips, she skips to school and skips through swimming pools, shes still so happy all the time and so full of a love for life. She hasnt found a passion for the sea yet, maybe the mermaid blood doesnt run through her veins like it does with her sister, but she finds her joys in just being, for now.
The weather gets colder and the winds get wilder, the Cornish winter is nearly upon us, indoor activities take place, an interactive theater where the girls step into a story book, they spoke about it for days afterwards. Lots of coloring and an art competition! The little one drew hers in a moment, quick as a flash, the older one took her time, six hours over a weekend. She drew it to scale, it was a Cornish Christmas, to her it was the lights, the star on the church and the fisherman’s lights on the harbour that we can see from our window. The detail was exact even though the lights weren’t up yet. She was proud and exhausted after. She didn’t win, but we got both drawings printed up as this years Christmas cards, they needed to be celebrated.