Month: August 2017

wildflowers, riverside | edgeofevening

Postcard from now: August

2 August We leave for Seattle on Saturday. These grey days are days of errands and packing; loose ends and last minute planning. For the past three days the littles have been at forest-school summer camp, making bows and arrows, fashioning clay animals, and toasting marshmallows in the woods. T has been taught how to light the fire. R is the only one who comes home without fingernails ingrained with the kind of mud that won’t wash off without a long soak. ‘I just haven’t had time to do the mud kitchen yet,’ he explains. C is reunited with his dear pre-school friend A. They like to do lots of playing in the mud kitchen together he tells me. I ask him what they make. ‘Well, mud pies of course,’ he replies. It seems like the strangest kind of indulgence, to have them on holiday and yet not have them with me. We had years worth of childcare vouchers saved, which, with C starting school in the autumn, we’re not going to use. But when …