{ Mu'Mu }

Yes. Us too

I cannot resist a typewriter in a thrift shop. I just can not. I know I'm not the only one. And just like others it's often the babes who have all the fun with Mama's thrift finds.

Right now? I think we're working on writing our name - this is important y'see - the first thing on the cover of any masterpiece is the author's name. Over and over again. Right down the page. Without spaces.

We're working on it....

Most Days Are Like This

Not many days go by in summer without some kind of bug investigation - one year I remember the midget had a thing for dead worms - I don't know if he was measuring them or trying to wake them up, but he played with them a lot (NB. they were dead before he started playing with them - honest!)

Woodlouse colonies are a firm fave here - especially when they find the bright white babies. Endless oohing and ahhing.

This year we have gone one step further by entrapping the bugs with a cunning trap, involving a pit, a slippery container, some smelly cheese and a plastic roof.

Some days we just luck out and find things right in front of us - like Chris here - or Chrys if you prefer ("he will turn into a chrysalis, Mummy") - pretty sure he's a moth caterpillar. We played with him for a while - the midget even kissed him (he hit him in the face by accident resulting in Chris curling up. Before I knew it Midget had said "oooh sorry!!" and a big smackeroony had been planted before I could even dry heave) - then we put him in the hatching chamber to continue our investigations further.

There are advantages to having fearless bug hunters in the house - they catch spiders for their Mama and don't mind carrying the wriggly critters to the top of the garden before releasing them. They have no fear of ugly, many-legged monstrosities which have most of us squealing like a girl from on top of a stool (ahem).

The downside of this fearlessness? well I am at a distinct disadvantage if, say, they want to run after me with a big, black spider in their hands? The fact that my house is home to ugly bugs most of the summer? The fact that I have to pretend to find moths interesting instead of hideous??

These little people teach me so much, and stretch me in ways I would never have dreamed about. And even though they kiss bugs, I am so terribly proud of their fearlessness. Masha'allah.

Animal Hospital

Despite the begging, we have no pets. Unless you count my husband. And the pet mould behind the wardrobe. But apart from that no animal passeth here. And as far as I am aware my children have no knowledge of vets, nor had they shown any interest in vets. Vets just weren't in our vocab.

And yet, here we are in a 'vet phase'. It's unfathomable.

It's amazing to watch your children bloom. Had we a TV or sent them to school I would have assumed that this obsession had been inculcated by an outside entity, yet here they are blooming in their own peculiar way. As vets.

I smiled as I remembered Amanda's post on her little animal doctor, as I had already thrifted a doctor's bag with a similar plan in mind.

Stuffed to the brim with "real doctors things, Mummy!", stethoscope, otoscope, penlight, thermometer, face masks, empty medicine boxes, some sticking plasters and bandages, I then set about making a lab coat - in this case a (thrifted) woman's blouse with 1/2 length sleeves - by adding huge pockets and applique medical sign with wool felt.

The play it has instigated has been a joy and a privilege to watch. The animals that have been saved! Oh my! The hearts that have been checked, the temperatures that have been recorded, the plasters that have been, erm, plastered. A lot has been learned by the questions this play has raised. White blood cells, vaccination, germs, health, blood, the questions never stop.

And I hope they never will.

These two boys of mine are the reason I do so much, and the reason I learn so much.

They learn through play, and I learn from them.

A Very Autumnal Nature Walk

Fallow deer. The Red Deer rut has ended, but the fallow deer are just gearing up for theirs, which usually gets going in November.

My new house - I've extended a bit.... OK OK not my house; I admit it - I'm not Landed Gentry. I know. Shocking.

Even tough Stags need a mid-morning snack....

Do not be fooled by these brown doe-eyes... er, I mean, stag eyes - he may look like a pussy cat, but that's only if you happen a bag of apples and conkers and not an antler in sight.

Observe his true colours - he's on the left:

See - testosterone on legs with horns sticking out.

Unless you have apples. Of course.

Ramadan 12th :: Go Outside - Run Around - Feel the Changes in the air

One for the road

Sorry if it's been a little quiet here the last few days. We took the opportunity to hit the road and see our  folks before Ramadan starts; the weather largely sucked but managed to get a few good days in.

Here are a few snapshots - how's life with you?? ::

Hit and run summerdays...

I don't really want to moan about the sucky weather, but it's getting hard to avoid - constant rain? Thunder and lightening daily? For FOUR weeks?? Come on - by any standards that sucks.

We have spent a lot of time indoors, or garden-based ready to run for cover when the deluge hits. Summer activities have made way for Autumn and Winter-time pursuits : games, drawing, dressing up, whilst Mama reacquaints herself with slow crafting in the easy chair.

So when the forecasts predicts something crazy like a whole morning with no rain (sun optional but oh so good) we hit the ground running.

And *because* of all the rain, we usually make it to the allotment to do mortal battle with the damn weeds. It works out great -  I get digging practice and the babes watch and catch bugs, paint in their nature journals and eat what they find. Bugs optional.

And s l o w l y I y I can see the tide turning a little our way. Bit by bit, patch by patch from jungle to farm.

And bug hotel - very important...

 And whilst wondering just why the hell I went for an allotment and made all this work for ourselves I overheard the youngest say to his brother as they sat in some long grass catching crickets::

"Brother: I LOVE our allotment"

And as the sweat dripped down my back, for that one sweet moment I really loved it too. And so what if the weather sucks. When it rocks, it really rocks.

Chasing the sun

You know how it is - you've been under the weather for several days, doing nothing except wallow in illness and having the occasional glass of water, and when you finally feel perky enough to leave the bed you are met with? Well, in our case it would be scenes of aggravated burglary - oh the mess! The piles! Where - where did they come from?? And how?? I mean, everyone has been curled up in the same bed for over 36 hours so just how did all this devastation happen??

So, you sigh and shrug your shoulders; put the first load in the washer and tackle the dishes which seem in imminent danger of cascading over the edge of the worktop. And it's your favourite pyrex so you *have* to do something....

You make mental notes of which piles need your immediate attention first, then in which order you will attempt to conquer the rest.

But there's that quiet nagging in the back of your mind: the babes need fresh air; the babes need OUT.

You try to be Grown Up and tell yourself you have responsibilities, that housework won't do itself you know. But then the sun comes out, and as it has been such a rare sight these last few weeks you know the battle is lost. You've been out-manœuvred. You quieten the Grown Up inside your mind and you listen to what your body and soul is telling you. Instincts take you farthter than To Do lists. You down tools, size up your new mission and get to work.

Basket. Drinks. Snacks. Paper. Paints. Brains. Eyes. Willing disposition.

Off we go.

And you know what? The piles are still there -  they'll get sorted eventually insha'allah, but life? Well, that has to be grabbed with both hands, doesn't it?