At the weekend, we travelled up to North Devon to finally celebrate my mum’s 70th, eighteen months late. We’d re-booked the holiday cottage three times. It was a wonderful, glowing time of family, good food, long walks, and pottering around on the beach. The weather was stunning – mellow and mild – the trees gilded with Autumn finery. We stood on the coast path above Lynmouth and could see for miles.
Back at home, the weather has turned wet and squally. It feels as though I’m standing still, pedalling against the wind on my bike in the early mornings. Wren has been sleeping on a little mattress at the bottom of our bed the past week or so, waking often with bad dreams. It seems to be a phase all my kids have hit at this age – perhaps a whole new set of imaginative neurones coming on line! Anyway, the best solution seems to be a bit of time sleeping in Mummy and Daddy’s room, close by for middle of the night cuddles. She amused us the other night however, instead of a cry from a nightmare, she sat bolt upright and said, “Mr B (her teacher), igh is a trigraph!” Sleep-talking grammar!
Here is my latest film in my series exploring the Scottish locations that inspired The Spellbinding Secret of Avery Buckle. The subtitles part way through were necessitated by my having my thumb over the mic!
