sunshine & happiness

 The sun shone and we headed to the beach. It's still bitterly cold so we packed a hot picnic. If you bake spuds in their jackets and put them in a cool box surrounded by hot water bottles by the time you get to the beach everything is still hot. Smother with baked beans (hot from a thermos) and cheddar and sprinkle (if so inclined) with bacon. Mugs of hot coffee / hot chocolate are essential as is a hunk of homemade cake as pudding. Perfect.

The bracing easterly breeze was stoutly ignored as we were determined to soak up the rays before the cloud came back. This meant that by the time we got into the car we were all deaf in one ear. However - the rare sun was glimpsed and I feel we have recharged our solar panels for the week. I can't wait for the longer evenings and more sunshine but I know I must be patient...
Spring is on it's way though - honest...

home

Not that long ago I was 3500 miles away from here.  I'm settling back in to everyday home but with renewed energy and optimism. Lots of things that seemed distant now seem positive and close by. This week brings birthdays and cakes, kiln firings and making, knitting and breathing. I'm trying to bring a little bit of stillness to each day before my world erupts into the whirlwind it normally is.

Now, when things are getting a bit too loud, a bit too boisterous (or girlsterous depending on the source of the riot) I find myself thinking of that beach in Cape Breton where the waves lap gently on the shore, where the sun sinks behind the forest, where the birds flock before sundown, where I'd love to go again.

Daisy and Jess by the sea...

As you know I spend loads of time at the sea and loads of time knitting. Last year I was inspired enough to design these wrist warmers as a present for Kate. (here she is sporting them at the beach last weekend)

Then we got chatting and thought how if we liked seaside buttons so might other people. So today we are proud to announce we have updated our etsy shop with lots of handmade buttons made from pebbles, shells and sea glass! Let me know what you think... *

*Apologies for this horrible act of terribly unBritish self promotion. Sorry!!!

Tyneham

Nice to see normal service has resumed weather-wise in dear old Blighty. Lets just say it's not as blissfully warm as it was. We layered up and headed out to the beach anyway. This time we explored Tyneham, a beautiful spot with a sad, sad story. In 1943 the village and surrounding farm land was handed over to the government for the war effort. All the villagers were evicted with promises that one day they would return. That never happened. Tyneham is a ghost village still used by the military and opened to the public on days that the firing range isn't used.

Most of the buildings are derelict now, only the school rooms and the Church are intact. It's a sad, sad place in such  beautiful and remote countryside.

About a mile away down a stony track is Worbarrow bay, a natural cove surrounded by some of the most beautiful scenery the Jurassic Coast can offer and it is here we beach comb, play and paddle, and think about that rural community who lived and worked here for centuries, uprooted and never came home.

work & play

We have a rule about our weekends - one day of work around the house followed by one day of play... Otherwise we'd be out all the time and the house would be disgusting. As ever, when the forecast is good we headed to the beach armed with buckets, spades, hot chocolate, marshmallows and family. Bliss!

Jess and Jago made a sand village complete with driftwood and feather forests, seaweed streams, limpet shell houses and obligatory monster - see huge crab claw threatening driftwood bridge below for details.

Huge crab claw is now residing in the garden because I am a mean mama (and that is a direct quote) and didn't really want it in the house after the stinky dead periwinkle episode.
























Everyone is still full of tales of that day, from the oldest to the youngest.  Days like these make memories.

solstice

We barely glimpsed the sun this winter solstice day. When we did, it made a glowing path across the waves. The sea crashed, the wind blew, the guitar played. We sang 'Here Comes the Sun' and felt connected.

seven good things

1. running barefoot in the dunes - even though it's a bit on the cold side
2. listening to the sea breathe in and out
3. being amazed at the bright autumn colour
4. touching frost crystals
5. planning future adventures
6. drawing and making
7. reading real books, made of paper and print (sometimes I'm a closet luddite)

when it's too rainy for the beach...

bring the beach home....

sand

The sun is finally out, it's stopped raining, we didn't have Glastonbury tickets (though we could hear it in the distance) so we headed to the beach. Good company, great beach combing and freezing water. What more could you want?