“But how do you get them to walk?” This is something I am frequently asked by other parents when we exchange stories about weekends and holidays and I tell them about our walks. “I’d love to do a walk like that with my children, but it’s just not possible!” they say. My standard answer is that it’s almost certainly possible with a bit of determination and imagination.
Articles tagged with: Littlelife
Sometimes, being a mother is like being a detective: you have to decipher lots of clues to work out what’s going on. So it was when Little Brother asked if we to go ‘to the place with the moat’. Given that we were actually in Cornwall at the time, once I’d put my ‘little grey cells’ to work and deduced that he meant ‘St Michaels’ Mount’, it was very easy to make a small boy very happy indeed.
When, a few years ago, we discovered Brean Down, we noticed another ‘interesting-looking’ promontory called Sand Point. Brean lies to the south of Weston-Super-Mare, while Sand Point lies to the north of it, near Kewstoke. The forecast for the New Year’s Day Bank Holiday was good, and Sand Point had the attraction of being a slightly shorter drive than Brean Down, so it was the perfect moment for a visit.
Another place we like to go – especially in the autumn – is the National Trust estate at Stourhead, a magnificent landscaped water garden.
I’ve been thinking back over all our family walks to try and work out what it is that turns a good hill walk into a great hill walk. There are lots of factors that influence this but, beyond ensuring that you’ve got the right skills and equipment, perhaps one of the most important is your choice of hill.
The snowdrops are here! I love these plucky little flowers that defy the chilly weather. Every year, I delight in the magical moment when the snowdrops burst forth to brighten up the bare landscape. It’s a cheering sight that heralds the arrival of Spring.
During the October holidays we had a trip down south to catch up with family and friends. We have mastered the art of travelling light with as little luggage as we can get away with.
After our sleeper trip to London a few years ago we really weren’t intending to do it again so soon.
I love small hills. Before we had children, I could never have imagined writing anything like that and genuinely meaning it.
Across the length and breadth of the UK, between October and March, you have the chance to see what is surely one of nature’s most magnificent sights: a ‘murmuration’ of starlings. Tens, or perhaps even hundreds of thousands of birds, all swooping and diving and looping across the dusk sky before settling down to roost for the night.
I have never seen this but recently on the way home from a holiday at the railway station we saw a man with a hawk on his arm. The next thing it flew off and sat above the departure board, then back to the man again swooping low over the people walking back and forth for their train.
In early March, we were really excited when we had the opportunity to spend a weekend in our old stomping ground of North Yorkshire. The big dilemma was to decide which of our many favourite haunts we would visit – there were so many great places that we knew it would be a hard choice.