February Story
Well it’s still raining. Despite our best efforts at digging land drains for two solid weeks the ground in the garden is still completely sodden, Inca reminds us every morning over our muesli and berries in the caravan that it has rained here in Cornwall everyday in 2026. It’s no wonder really that we’re still trudging everywhere in our pyjamas and welly boots.
Speaking of caravan breakfasts…they are almost a thing of the past. I dream about baking bread, making the children cakes and roasting on a Sunday afternoon in a proper kitchen and all going well it won’t be long before we can do all of those things. The idea of making a cup of tea without putting on my Le Chameau’s brings unspeakable excitement.
The lounge is almost done, I’ve started painting ~ another Edward Bulmer colour to work with our lime walls. We’ve gone for Hawtrey on the walls and Little Greene Silent White on the ceiling beams, it feels like sitting in a bowl of the most delicious sticky toffee pudding sauce and I am so delighted with how it looks. We just need to learn how to fit carpet in there and we can start getting out picture frames and lamps to make it a proper room.
I’ve also got a makers market coming up at the start of March which I’m really excited about. It’s at a farm shop and estate a short drive from home, Tre Pol & Pen on the 7th March if anyone fancies popping by. I’m busily prepping hand creams, baby mitts and easter decorations so there will be plenty on offer.
The littles ones continue to be as resilient as always, Atlas proudly came over to the caravan last week at dawn all by himself, dragging his dressing gown through the mud, but still, an achievement for a four year old to walk by himself through the pitch black garden for his toast. It makes me very emotional when I see them just getting on in this way, so many children nowadays have such an unnecessarily high level of comfort in their lives that I worry how they will cope when life inevitably smacks them in the forehead. I’d like to think our children will tackle any problems coming their way with the same nonchalant strength they’ve tackled ice cold caravan showers and breakfasts in the dark. To say I’m proud of them is an understatement. We went to a birthday party recently where the children were asked to act out what they wanted to be when they’re older, I was shocked and terribly saddened when so many mimed ‘gaming’ or ‘youtube star’. That seven year old children have an ambition to sit on their bottoms and stare at a screen is a hard pill to swallow for me, what an awful dream to be working towards, as though their hopes and dreams of being an astronaut have already been dashed at such a young age. Thankfully Inca told the DJ she was going to be an artist and Atlas answered he was acting out ‘saving animals like David’. [Attenborough]
I often leave these parties in a state of despair, Atlas had a wonderfully wholesome party for his little friend the other day which restored my faith in humanity, but all too often I come home and to be honest the sensible one finds me sat on the bed in tears, terrified that our children are growing up in a world where people don’t value the same things that we do. Heyho, we can only do our best to raise them gradually and do things our way. Luckily for us Inca can’t understand why on earth the girls in her class have jewellery in their ears and Atlas thinks ‘they look beautiful without them’. I visited my best friend from school last year and was discussing all this with her Pa in the kitchen over a glass of sparkling elderflower…just how terrifying it all is. As we watched our families lovingly share out the fish food and help each other sprinkle it upon the minnows in their pond, I shared with him how we are adamant to keep them little as they want to be for as long as possible and teach them that those outside influences are very much outside of our family and not traits we want to adopt. He answered that he thinks I’m swimming against the current and sadly he’s absolutely correct, but that being said, the sensible one and I are strong swimmers.
Looking out the window today, the sky is blue and although the clouds are beginning to gather in strength it remains, for now, clear, fresh and dry. I’m defiantly wearing a blouse and refusing to wear a coat on the school run at the moment, willing spring’s arrival any which way possible.