It seems an age since we were in Germany for our annual Winter visit at New Year. On the day pictured, we did our usual circuit up the road, along the edge of the forest and back again, stopping to say hello to the sheep, to inspect the tracks left by the local tractors and wildlife (i.e. dinosaurs), and the lichen (actually, that would only be me). The boy rode his bike all the way round without too much fuss. Such a different experience to last year, where he protested so much at having to walk that I ended up carrying him screaming all the way back whilst dodging regular swipes at my face. Needless to say, this year’s saunter was an altogether more relaxing affair.
And against the odds we got snow! It didn’t make it down the mountain but we made damn sure we got up there. Twice. The first time was for all of five minutes as it became blindingly apparent (quite literally) that sledging in a blizzard was not a good idea. We returned the next day, storm having subsided, to cloudy skies but clear runs. It was so much fun, even for a complete slope/skiphobe like myself. This, I reason, is because on a sled, unlike on skis, your feet are free, giving you much more control. So in contrast to most of my fellow sledders (husband and son included) I have my legs out breaking pretty much all the way down the slope. I may be slow but at least I’m safe.
There’s no phobia for skiing! I’ve just looked it up. How is that? The closest would probably be ‘tachophobia’ or a fear of speed but I mostly only fear speed on a ski slope. Does that count?
We returned, with Oma, to a garden that had burst under the midsummer sun.
An interview with F, aged 3 years
What’s your favourite colour? Red
What’s your favourite food? Pizza
What’s you favourite place to visit? The dinosaurs
What’s your favourite dinosaur? Diplodocus
What’s your favourite toy? Müllauto
What’s your favourite thing to watch? Abney and Teal
What’s your favourite song? Eine Insel mit zwei Bergen
What’s your favourite animal? I don’t know, maybe it’s a cow or something, maybe it’s a rhino.
What’s your favourite book? Diggers
What do you want to be when you’re older? A pilot
Happy (belated) Birthday sweet boy xxx
Egg hunts, beaches, broads and trains
Norfolk, Easter 2015
Oh February, if truth be told, you were a bit of a disappointment! Still, chicken pox is now ticked off the to-do list. We could have done without the two visits to hospital in the two weeks prior to the pestilence descending (the boy gets a bit wheezy from time to time) but all is back to normal now, and thanks to my amazing mum who hot footed it 200 miles down the country on a Sunday I got to also go to work and keep my precious remaining holidays… Released from quarantine a little over a week ago but not wanting to frighten any neurotic parents at the park we headed to the Gorge and the Ashton Meadows to stretch our legs, fill our lungs and soak in the glorious sunshine – a hint that Spring is just around the corner.
March is already shaping up to be a vast improvement on last month. Of course, the fantastic weather of late has helped. We’ve also been making use of our babysitter and other offers of help and have been getting out and about in the evenings – a birthday party last Saturday, dinner at the neighbour’s tomorrow, dinner just the two of us next week. Hoping to finally check out this local restaurant (we failed miserably in December for my birthday due to yet more illness). And then we’re off to Norfolk at the end of the month. First time in that part of the country and first UK-based family holiday just the three of us – eek! We can’t wait to just switch off, relax and explore the broads and coastline. There will definitely be fish and chips and I might even try some crab. So it’s just fingers crossed for a couple of quiet, illness-free weeks until then.
Tapped at my door today.
And said, “Put on your winter wraps,
And come outdoors to play.”
Is always full of fun;
Until the set of sun.
Will stay a month with me
And we will have such jolly times –
Just come along and see.”
– Winifred C. Marshall, January