As soon as I started to make another decorative journal (trying to get make some bits and pieces for my Etsy shop) with some of the recently acquired lace and buttons,

I heard the familiar shout. Silence. Another shout. Silence. Waiting to be “rescued”- there is always a stampede when he wakes; a very warm, fuzzy baby is a rare delicacy indeed

(This cardigan is on loan; made by Ann, with truly vintage buttons: they were buttons from Pats’ cardigan (Pat-the-Bat-man) when he was a baby. Like all handknits, it is warm, practical, and wears so well)

We spend a lot of time looking out waiting for a dry spell to wrap baby up in the sling and go for a walk arond the garden.

Today we got a lovely hour of looking at the hens and delighting in the signs of new growth in the garden: our first raspberry leaves in the polytunnel, and the willows, beautiful in their vibrant bare-leaved yellows, reds, purples and oranges are showing signs of tiny buds.

That makes me so happy (I’m easily pleased!)

I cooked a roast chicken dinner for them last night (with apple tart for after- I’m definitely trying to be my mother) and made fried rice with the leftovers tonight. I had fried rice with onions and some carrot and turnip (above) Frankly, I feel I have discovered a New Taste Sensation!

(strangely, my discovery of tuna and jam on wholewheat bread dipped into soup didn’t quite take off  :-O )

Today flew by quickly: our weather has been mild and only slightly damp the past few days, so Little Girl, Smallest Boy, Middle Child and I went to pick some of the last flowers in the garden… and to pick all the rosebuds in the hope of them blooming in the vase rather than rot when the wetter, colder weather arrives soon.

Our little girl needed to change for what seemed like the hundreth time today (apparently this runs in families: my youngest sister always was, and still is, afflicted with it) to help me change baby,

help her daddy by making him posters to tell him what to do:

before the fog and mist came up from the valley (heralding yet another change of attire for some people) and forcing us indoors for the afore-mentioned New Taste Sensation.

(taken by eldest son)

(taken by my second-eldest son)

Weekends just fly by too fast.

We drive down little overgrown tracks to get there; narrow roads with deep ditches either side, filled with wild flowers and flag irises

Fields of bog with bog cotton grown on it (our boys picked armfuls of this soft fluffy stuff!)

This is the part which is “cut-away”:

And then laid out (they are extruded through a special bog cutting machine into lines to dry):

We don’t own any bog, but rent some every year. Despite  having a large protruding belly that will hinder me no end, there is a great sense of excitement in our house at the thoughts of the bog season beginning (and for the boys, getting paid for the work is a great encouragement!!)

This year, my interest in the bog is two-fold, as I have been painting this exact area of bog, using aerial photographs and old maps.

So when we walked it yesterday, it was an extraordinary feeling of knowing, knowing where we were standing in the greater picture of things, amidst all these ancient bogs and field systems;

where families have worked, and been warmed and sustained by them, for generations.

Our litle girl had the Very Important Task of carrying the flowers: (note the look of concentration! Didn’t stop her from swishing the dog as he went past though!!)

Between the wild flowers and the not-so-wild, we have a gorgeous patchwork of May colour:

And our vase of delights:

Gail from Shedding the Wolf, who claims to be non-crafty, but I don’t believe a word of it… I received this as part of a Pay It Forward giveaway;

(Gail was the recipient of my OWOH giveaway, and I have been following her wonderful blog since)

But, back to non-craftiness… let me just say that  I will not be cleaning my dishes with this beautifully made dishcloth, oh no, this is far too lovely to mop up the encrusted porridge pot that lives in my sink, it will be draped artfully over my “Housekeepers Box” (yes, I actually have one. That I really do use, and even the colour is perfect!)

(That is if I can keep it away from our smallest who has continued to rob it from me, even after I have robbed it back: “Why id you taken my babies blanket, mama, my babies id cold you know” Guilt. It gets you every time) 

And I also received this is the hand-beaded spoon- to feature in all my food photos!- isn’t this really beautiful?

Thank you so much Gail, you are officially in my Crafty-Girl Club!!

And so after such a great start, the day continued to be sparkling. We went for a walk to the river, and had the first paddle of the year (some of us,that is; some of us wilted at the sight of the freezing water and made excuses to go and photograph lichens on the bridge)

We walked home as the sun was setting across the fields

(this is the old stile that brought you to the water well a hundred years ago)

Today dawned, not quite as warm, but a sunny day nonetheless, perfect for spending in the garden. Peas, beans, spring onions and tomatoes all went into the ground today, and Fergal made a bunker for the boys (and girl), then built a willow frame over to give it coverage. It should be a leafy hideaway come the summer!

The ramp is for the Wee One to get in safely, and doubles up as a seat. And talking of Wee Ones/ Dishcloth Robbers: she went on a wander around the garden with Muttley today, and came back to me, in a state of angst.

“I’m a fay-wee, and I lost my wand, so now I can’t fly! And Muttley lost his wings, so now he can’t turn into a ladybird, so he’ll just have to be a fly. Oh dear, what will we do?!”

How do you respond to such a crises? Especially when they are both cheekily grinning up at you:

Imagine the excitement then, when a ladybird was found a short while after (and necessitated an anxious check to make sure that Muttley hadn’t indeed found his wings after all!!)