Spring this year has been a collection of storms and showers, swollen rivers and lush green. Everyone is waiting for summer’s heat to burst from the sky and the perpetual damp to steam heavenward. The house is filled with wet washing and waterproofs and wellies stuffed with newspaper after over enthusiastic river wading or splashing in the streams that race down our road when a thunder storm hits.

This month Little I turned three. Our funny, happy, loving, energetic baby girl. I carry her less and less, more and more I find myself holding the hands of two little girls walking by my sides with no one in my arms, listening to the chatter reaching upwards. It’s a new phase of motherhood and all at once it is liberating and yet it feels as if time has slipped through my fingers and in the blink of an eye my babies are big.

We bought ingredients for Little I’s birthday cake, lots of chocolate, and as we walked back along the road we looked up to see somebody Florent sometimes works with, w…


Spring finally came with a week of hot sunshine as if the sun wanted to couldn’t wait any longer.
And now the cowslips have already passed and the violets too. Orchids are blooming in the meadows just beyond our house and the girls gather bunches of buttercups and forget-me-nots and beg for a twig of lilac to perfume the house with.
The swallows have returned, working without pause to repair their nests and raise their broods. 

We visited Spain, deciding on April, to avoid baking in the heat of the van later in the season. We spent time in the hills and on the coast. It was, as ever with holidays where we endeavor to spend no money, both fun and exhausting, void of nearly all comfort but full of new sights to wonder at.
The first night we trailed up miles of small mountainside roads. We met an oncoming car and politely reversed, into a small storm drain, then passed thirty minutes trying to wedge branches in such a fashion that we might be able to get out again. At the sound of an approa…