Today, we had one of those lazy family walks which turned into a two-hour ramble. Auri kept saying, “I’m having too much fun!” and Elfi kept laughing and chattering away. The promised showers hadn’t really come to anything, and it was still, warm and calm. We are in peak mushroom season right now, with several varieties popping up in different parts of the woods. Auri knows not to touch any, as I’m not confident enough in my identification, but keeps reminding me that our friend Daša knows which ones we can collect and eat so she’ll be doing that with her one of these days.
Crowditch
The recent rain (three afternoons of thunderstorms, two accompanied by deluges, breaking the heat) has turned the first of the paths through the woods into a broom jungle, the sheer weight of all the water pushing down the whips and closing off the way forward. We picked our way through yesterday, and pruned a few lost branches today.
Auri loves the broom. Whenever we go for a walk, she presents Elfi and me with handfuls of the petals.
We are just catching our breath from a busy last fortnight, just in time to rush into another busy month.
Last week, we were all up at Stempster. Euan spent a happy two or three days (mostly) in the Wild Wood, taking down fifty-two and a half trees (the half being some serious surgery to a victim of lightning). Auri spent many a delighted hour on the swing and generally wreaking havoc outside, Elfi was her usual cheerful self, and Scapa got in some much-loved beach walks.
There are several photographs to share, which I suspect will crop up at odd times over the coming few days. But enough of us. How are you all?!
Auri absolutely loves jigsaws. At bedtime, she will often decide to take a block puzzle or jigsaw puzzle to bed with her. One night, she must have completed the same jigsaw at least seven times before falling asleep, the wooden pieces dotted around her.
This afternoon, I watched her complete another favourite jigsaw, and I noticed that when she picks up a piece which doesn’t fit, she physically shrugs, palms upwards, and shakes her head, before returning it to the pile and choosing another piece. “No, not that one” she’ll sometimes whisper under her breath. Or, increasingly, “Oh, biscuits!”