Skip to main content

Summer holidays: Half way through

Six weeks sounds like a long time when you're at the beginning, doesn't it?  But it's a lot less long when you're halfway through, wondering where the time went.  Here's what we did with some of it.

The males of the family (including my dad) went to see the truck racing at Donington, the first Saturday.  They came back full of truck excitement - and with bigger hands than usual!  Meanwhile, my mum and I went for a nice peaceful walk.



Next day, Theo was a little tired.


Later that week, we drove to Dove Dale and climbed Thorpe Cloud in the rain, which helpfully and unexpectedly ceased just as we got to the top.  We were able to have lunch with a view and without getting soaked.  A kestrel came and hovered nearby, looking as if it were hung from the sky by an invisible string.



Coming down, the boys decided that running was the way to go.  This is my new favourite picture of me with them.

We also went to a tractor festival (oh yes, we know how to have fun!) where Toby had his first go on a quad bike.  He was cautious while driving but fizzing with excitement afterwards.



The second week, both boys went to a holiday club run by a couple of local churches.  Toby loved it; Theo endured it rather; they both came home with an enormous bag of craft activities, and entertained us for days afterwards by dressing up as knights and acting out scenes from a play.

I took advantage of my free time by picking blackberries for my yearly batch of jam (the hedges were overflowing with berries!) and getting myself a new haircut.  Now I just need a better photo of my new haircut.

Last week, Toby went to a tennis course, and Theo and I went shopping, entertained friends, bounced on the trampoline and watered the garden - endlessly and repeatedly, owing to Theo's current obsession with the hose.  Still, it seems to be doing some good, judging by the size of the carrots!



And finally, Toby has been getting rather good at Mariokart Wii.  He was so pleased with his first place trophy that he and Theo had to celebrate like Formula 1 drivers do - by tipping champagne over their heads.  Or rather, firmly-closed bottles of squash.  The champagne will have to wait for another day.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Dove Valley Walk: Going round the bend

Somewhere between Marchington and Uttoxeter, the wiggles of the River Dove stop wiggling west to east, and start wiggling north to south. If it went in straight lines, it would make a right-angled bend. As I'm following the river upstream, this was my last section walking west. After this it's north to the Peak District and Dovedale. here the Dove swings north The main walk of this section was all on the south side of the river. But I also did a separate, shorter walk, to explore the village of Doveridge, and the old Dove Bridge which is tantalisingly glimpsed from the A50. Walk 1: Marchington to Uttoxeter I liked Marchington even more as I arrived there for the second time. I parked opposite the village shop - noting the "ice cream" sign outside for later - and near the brick-built St Peter's Church, with a war memorial built in above the door.  A few streets took me to the other side of the village, where I found a path alongside a stream, then across some hay m

Dove Valley Walk: Meeting the Limestone Way

At Uttoxeter my route along the Dove Valley met some official long-distance trails. First the Staffordshire Way north to Rocester, then the Limestone Way continuing up towards Dovedale. Graham joined me on today's walk, which included the Staffordshire Way section and the first part of the Limestone Way. Unusually, it was a one-way hike; we got the bus back.   Uttoxeter to Ellastone Graham and I parked at Uttoxeter train station. It's very cheap for the day if you park after 10am, but I was worried about getting back in time for the school run, so we got there at 9:20 and paid the more expensive rate (still only £3).  We started off across flat fields towards the A50 and Dove Bridge. A group of young cattle gave us hard stares as we walked past. I posted a photo of a wonky gate on the Gate Appreciation Society with the caption "Parallelogate" and it quickly accumulated 200 likes - many more than this post will get!   Passing the old Dove Bridge again , we ploughed t

San Antonio

San Antonio is towards the south of Texas and feels very much more Mexican than American. The balmy evenings, the colourful Mexican market, the architecture of the buildings, and the number of people speaking Spanish around us all added to the impression. The city, in fact, grew out of a Spanish mission and presidio (fort), built in 1718 as part of Spain's attempt to colonize and secure what was then the northern frontier of the colony of Mexico. Texas was then a buffer zone between Mexico and the French-held Louisiana, and Spain was keen to cement her hold on the area by introducing settlers and converting the natives to Catholicism and loyalty to the Spanish government. The missions in general had no great effect, but the San Antonio area was the exception to the rule, growing into an important city with five missions strung out along the San Antonio river. The first of these, San Antonio de Valero, later became well-known as the Alamo, where 182 Texans died in 1836