It’s been back down to earth for me this week…literally. As many of you know, this last year I have had a portion of my friend’s allotment. It has been a lot of fun even if I have made some really awful mistakes (spraying my broad beans with weed killer instead of washing up liquid for black fly being the highlight). My lovely friend has decided to bow out and I will be taking the whole allotment on. I have been very excited about it and haven’t wasted a moment in getting down there and clearing weeds. On Saturday we had a bonfire of all the clearings. There’s something cathartic about a fire isn’t there? I don’t know what it is. Seeing the flames licking up all the old rotting stems and roots. I particularly relished seeing the bindweed roots going up in flames (good riddance!). I can see why fire is often regarded as a purifying force in folklore, destroying the old and worn, and making space for new things to grow. As our minds turned towards the start of a new school year, having a fire and burning up all the rubbish felt just the right thing to do.
The back end of last week involved the mad rush to make sure we had all the right kit together and correctly labeled before the start of term. Finch blankly refused to try on his new school shorts and wailed disconsolately when I insisted he put on his new trousers so they could be turned up. He declared he was “shy” of those shorts and didn’t see why he couldn’t wear his normal clothes. Tomorrow, I know I will feel as odd at leaving him behind with his new teacher as I did when Little Owl started school. It’s a definite break point in a longer, gradual transition of him gaining more independence. Who would ever want to halt that? It is one of the wonders of parenthood. Still, I have learnt the hard way that no good comes of not making room for the processing of these moments. With Wren off at nursery I will head off to the allotment, spade in hand, to dig in field peas as a green manure, and with every spadeful of earth I will be sending up grateful thanks for this wonderful little chap who is my son.
Tomorrow Big Dreamer and I will be catching a flight up to Edinburgh for the Kelpies Prize awards ceremony at the Edinburgh International Book Festival on Friday. The Discover Kelpies team have put up videos of the three short-listed authors reading an extract each from our books. Follow this 
We are back from a lovely time away, involving lots of ice cream, sand and sea. Finch lost a shoe but gained a dumper truck. Little Owl had to retire her favourite kite (hole in one side) but learned how to play Uno. Wren forgot how to go to sleep then remembered just in time for heading home. We explored some castles, ate fish and chips, and all-in-all had a “real, good jolly time.”
So that’s that. The term is over. The warm weather has made it feel long over due. Last June and July we made the mistake of committing to lots of things, forgetting that we really do have the best weather over these two months and August is almost always a washout. This year we stayed non-committal and as a result have been able to spend weekends at the beach and beside rivers in shady glades. Still, the kids were ready for the holidays weeks ago. It has been a struggle to get them through the last bit of term: their hearts already turning from thoughts of sums and spellings to rockpools and icecream.
The new attic room has come into its own with this prolonged spell of hot weather. In the evening Finch and I pick our way over Big Dreamer’s tools (he is building a wardrobe) to the futon for bedtime stories. It’s a lovely cool spot, the wide-open roof windows creating a refreshing draught. Above our heads the sky is all pale blue haze and the swifts dash madly about in a festival of evening feasting. Sometimes, as I close the book covers, we sit quietly, lost in thought, contentedly listening to the swifts’ spiraling squeaks, and relishing the cool evening air on our faces. I will miss that sound when they go, always a welcome change from the raucousness of rooftop seagulls; their absence marking the downward turn of the year. What a summer it is turning out to be.
I have some very exciting news! Last week I received a wonderful email telling me I’d been short-listed for the Discover Kelpies Writing competition. This is a competition run by Scottish Publisher, Floris Books, to find new writers for children. I wrote a novel for children aged 8 – 12 and entered it into the competition. That makes it sound easy but it wasn’t. It took me a loooong time to write my story and then have the guts to enter it. I was so surprised when I received the email from the Discover Kelpies team that I had to keep re-reading it! You can find out more about the competition and the other short-listed writers 
How are you all getting on in the heat? At every opportunity we have headed off for shady river banks and cool sea breezes. The warm weather has brought out the jellyfish along the coast near us. They always give me the fright of my life when I suddenly feel one beside me mid-swim. The heat is hard on the littlies. They sleep in just their nappies, fan on, windows wide, hair plastered to their foreheads. Wren didn’t help herself the other evening by getting up, having a rummage in the wardrobe and putting on all her winter gear. She had woolly hat, gloves and big thick coat on, and was most unimpressed when we took it all off her. I can only think that her two-year old thermostat, having never experienced such heat, went completely haywire and decided to start back at the bottom again.
Phew…busy here…and hot! Here’s a seagull for a sunny day.
Happy Midsummer! This weekend was fittingly glorious. We hid fairy doors in the garden for the children and their friends to find, and discover little Midsummer gifts left for them behind the doors by the ‘fairies’. The river is bursting with life. Two lots of cygnets have successfully hatched and are already getting leggy. The parents sensibly remain wary. A fox crisscrossed my path several times this morning, too intent on his business to be nervous of the likes of me. There’s plenty to keep him busy. Baby rabbits lollop around on the banks, and I practically had to run a wood pigeon over before it would move.
