The kids have been playing a heap in the garden, playing together, playing by themselves, imagining.
It brings back so many memories of being their age and just lying and staring at ants for what seemed like hours. Of sitting on top of the fairy hill (a mound of grey stone rocks and soil covered in marigolds and periwinkles) and imagining up fantastic stories.
Of throwing big plastic balls up in the sky again and again, just to see them go up into the blue and descend.
"Abracadaba - you're a frog!" the kids tell me.
Rivvet.
"Abracadabra - you're a monster!"
Roarrrr!
The Sprocket tells long, involved stories of the big, big, BIG monster who bit his toe. The Poppet tells me she is Doctor-Captain-Princess Poppet and she will steer the ship and 'check' everyone, dispensing bandaids where neccessary. And always in pink.
Today I'm linking up with 52 Weeks of Grateful to say thanks for the warmer weather, for grubby kids and long days in the garden and for imagination.
