Full Circle

It's been another year where my offerings here have been fairly thin on the ground, but this is still my place to come when I want to look back and reflect, if only for my own amusement. 

Having lost my elderly grandmother just before Christmas, 2019 began with a funeral and return trip to my hometown. The funeral was actually a very uplifting start to the year as most of the family came together for the occasion, and I met with cousins I hadn't seen in more than ten years. In the fortnight that followed we had a snowfall and made our first snowman of the year. This was swiftly followed by my thirtieth birthday in February. My parents came up for the occasion and even took care of the children for a day so Sewel and I spend the afternoon in Edinburgh and see a performance of Les Miserable in the evening. 

Winter turned into spring, and there were more birthdays to celebrate, as Ever turned three and Moth five. The school term was rapidly coming to an end, and in June we went on holiday to Mull with my parents. We spent a wonderful week exploring the island, as well as taking day trips to nearby Iona and Ulva. Then the summer holidays truly began, with many fun-packed days at home with Moth and Ever, including a first cinema visit, and a night spent camping in the garden, followed by ten days in the East of England visiting Sewel's family. 

The school term was underway again before we knew it, and suddenly we found ourselves with three hours to spare each morning as Moth started school full time and Ever attended nursery part time. We have watched both children flourish in their new routines, especially Moth who joined the Additional Needs class and never looked back. He was even presented with the Head-teacher's Award for learning to read, in November. 

Autumn also saw Sewel relaunching our candle-making business, after receiving notice that his office would be relocating to the city centre in the new year. Not wishing to undertake a longer commute to a job that he finds boring and unfulfilling, he has decided that he will leave and run the business full time. We are in a good position for him to do this and hopefully 2020 will see our business continue to grow successfully.

We have just returned from a lovely Christmas with my in-laws in the East of England. One of the main reasons we chose to return for Christmas was that Sewel's grandmother had grown incredibly frail, and we knew it would be our last opportunity to see her. We actually stayed with her for the week, which meant we could take care of her, not that she really wanted much at all, as she was barely eating and drinking. She passed away the day after we returned to Scotland, so it looks as though 2020 will begin in much the same way as this last year come full circle. Hopefully, though, getting the family together to celebrate the life of a very special woman, will prove to be an uplifting occasion that sets us in motion for 2020. 

A Week on Mull

A month ago we drove up to Oban and caught the ferry across to Mull for our family holiday. While a much larger island than Bute, which we visited last year, the population is less than half. The roads are mostly single-track, and areas of civilisation are quite scattered across the island, giving it a much more rural feel. We stayed in a lovely holiday let, which was set back from the road and surrounded by woodland, but with a view through the trees across Loch Cuin. We watched the sun setting over the water, and I was completely taken away by the beauty and tranquility of that moment. 

I think the first day of the holiday was our favourite. We spent the first part of the day on a beach further along the coast, and then stopped at Croig for the "Sometimes Annual Daft Raft Race" that Sewel and I had spotted advertised on a poster. It was quite a spectacle and certainly proved to be an interesting experience, even as a mere spectator. We watched as an array of rafts set off from the shore and raced to the pier further along. We followed their progress on foot and were there to meet them at the other end. We were completely drawn by Croig, and were struck by the view of what we believe to be Rum in the distance.

We visited Tobermory twice. The town, with its iconic colourful houses set along the seafront, is the setting for the children's television programme Balamory. Moth and Ever loved visiting the aquarium, which was small but still kept us occupied for over an hour. We enjoyed the touch-pool session and Ever was brave enough to hold a starfish. We also did some souvenir-hunting in the wide range of touristy shops, and were also able to stock up on food supplies at the local Co-op. 

We spent a day driving all the way to the South-West point of Mull, where we caught the ferry from Fionnphort across to Iona. It was nice to spend a day exploring a little of the island and getting a feel for it, although we didn't venture into the abbey, with two small children in tow. We spent another day on another small island called Ulva, which has a population of just five people! It would certainly be an experience living for a time in such a remote place. 

We visited Duart Castle, although this was a little challenging with the children as they wouldn't let us hang around for long, ever eager to move on to the next room. Because we shared the holiday with my parents, Sewel and I were able to go out for a meal together one evening, which was a real treat! At our encouragement, my parents joined the Staffa tour on the final day. We decided against it, as we weren't sure about how the children would react to the three hour boat trip. When my parents returned they said the trip was one of the highlights of the holiday for them, as they had been lucky enough to see a pod of dolphins during the trip. 

Apart from the Staffa trip, which we'll save for a later date, I felt we ticked everything off our Mull "bucket list", and really got a good overview of the island. We all really enjoyed the week, especially Moth and Ever, who coped with being away from home and in a different environment much better than they did last year. 

 

First Days of Spring

Every season is my favourite at some point in the year. I always find that with the turning of the seasons comes a change that's not unwelcome. There's something to love about every season, but I often tire of them after a while and search for signs of the next season to come. 

There's something special about springtime that I think marks it out as my absolute favourite season. Spring is the time of the year that both of my children arrived into the world. It is a time for new life, fresh buds and leaves emerging on the once bare branches of trees, which later festoon the streets with colourful sweet-smelling blossom. This aroma combines with the earthy scent of cows, which I don't find unpleasant at all but a vast improvement on the overpowering diesel fumes that we were used to in our previous urban dwelling. 

When we walk along the quiet country roads that run along the edge of the village the surrounding fields are dotted with white and the air is alive with the bleats of spring lambs. The heady scent of the green fields combined with the bluest skies is enough to lift my spirits, even when for days on end the wind blows in gusts strong enough to hinder our mobility, and the fine rain sends chills through us.

The winter has been a mild one, but the arrival of spring as usual has been staggered, with an unexpected heatwave in February, before further snow showers into March. But I find the post February snow is limited in its capacity and never lasts long. Even when it settles it quickly melts when the snow showers dwindle into rain. I love the cosiness that comes with the colder months, but this is nothing compared with the warmth and hope that spring brings, along with the strong reminder that we survived another winter.

Visiting Cumbrae

Last weekend, with a guest to entertain and a promising weather forecast ahead, we set off for Largs, a seaside town on the West coast, and caught the ten minute ferry across to Great Cumbrae. This tiny island has a population of around 1400 people, and isn't far from Bute which we visited last summer. 

Four miles from the ferry terminal lies the small town of Millport, and main area of habitation on the island. After our picnic we explored the seafront, starting with crocodile rock, the first point of interest. Not to be confused with the popular Elton John song, this is quite literally a rock shaped like a crocodile. There is also Lion Rock and Indian Rock, but these will wait for another visit. 

We then went to Garrison House and had a look at the small museum there. It was interesting, but the children were very fidgety so it wasn't long before we moved on. We walked to the Cathedral of the Isles, the smallest cathedral in the UK. 

We were the only visitors at the time, and it was very tranquil, even with two small children. Even they seemed slightly in awe and were happy to sit in the pew with me until the rest of our party had finished looking. We found a grass labyrinth in the cathedral grounds and had great fun following the path to the centre. 

We returned to the seafront and had a look in some of the shops and cafes in search of the ice cream we had promised Moth and Ever. The only problem was that as we aren't quite into tourist season yet, there wasn't a lot of choice. Moth wanted strawberry and Ever chocolate. Eventually we compromised and bought a box of unbranded mini Magnum style ice creams from the local Premier food store. 

 

There was enough to go around, and so we all enjoyed sitting on a bench and looking across to distant Arran, and the mainland. 

We returned to the car and drove around the rest of the island. You can get around the whole island by car in about half an hour. Just before we reached the ferry terminal for the return journey, we stopped at some rock pools. We had brought buckets and spades and the children's nets, and spent a happy half an hour collecting shells and exploring rock pools. We even found a jelly fish washed up on the shore. 

We were only about five minutes from the ferry and got there just as it was arriving. We boarded the ferry for the short journey back to the mainland. It had been a wonderful adventure. 

Edinburgh Outing

Sewel planned a special outing for just the two of us in celebration of my milestone birthday last month. My parents came up to be with us for the week, and we had some great days out all together, but two days after my birthday they took charge of the children for the day so we could go out. 

I knew very little about what Sewel had in store. All he'd revealed was that we were off to Edinburgh and we wouldn't be back until after midnight. We took the tram from the park and ride and arrived in the city at lunchtime. Sewel led the way, and after about a mile we arrived at a tiny basement restaurant. There were only about five or six tables inside but it was all very luxurious and comfortable. We sat down and enjoyed a delicious three course lunch, followed by coffee.

Feeling very full, we left the restaurant mid-afternoon. I didn't press Sewel about what he had planned for the rest of the day, and let him continue to lead the way back into the centre. After stopping to take some photos with the castle in the background, we arrived at The Writers' Museum. Sewel knew it was somewhere I had wanted to visit, but it would have been impossible with two small children in tow. It was nice to have the freedom to take my time and really look at the displays about Robert Burns, Sir Walter Scott and Robert Louis Stephenson. I certainly need to read more of the works of these celebrated Scottish writers!

We still had a few hours remaining before the grand finale Sewel had planned, so we took our time, walking around the city and visiting some shops. We picked up presents for Moth and Ever, fairy wings, on the grounds that if we'd bought them only for Ever then Moth would want some too. Eventually we arrived at the Edinburgh Festival Theatre where all was revealed, as you will see from the photo. Sewel had bought us tickets to see Les Miserables! It was a spectacular performance and we really enjoyed it. 

Sewel had put such a lot of thought into making the day special for me. My 30th birthday has been a memorable one.

Little Echoes

There she spoke her first word. Here she learned to talk. Very shortly after moving day, I returned home from work to the delighted chorus of "Mummy, Mummy!" Moth charging through the hall to greet me, and Ever following in his wake, giving voice to her new found word: "Mummy." 

Soon the little echoes became a regular occurrence. With two parents and a younger brother to imitate, Ever quickly rose to the challenge. Now that she had found her voice, she was determined to speak just as competently as those around her. 

Whenever I spoke, no matter how quietly, I was guaranteed to hear the words echo. Almost effortlessly single words merged with others and expanded into basic sentences and expressions. "I enjoyed today," she would say every night before bed.

Then came the day that she spoke of her own accord. I recognised the words and expressions as my own, but this time she was not merely repeating what she'd heard me say seconds beforehand. She had quite literally taken the words out of my mouth and was using them appropriately to say what she wanted. 

Now she subjects us to questions, and an endless running commentary of all that's going on around us, her observations and interpretations of what she can see. "What are you doing?" she asks me repeatedly, even though often she knows the answer already.

As someone who's sometimes afraid to speak up, I cannot help but marvel as I listen to my little echo, imitating no more but discovering her own voice, and not hesitating to use it.

Moving Moth

I know it was a lot to expect of my children, a move so far from all that was familiar, the place that to them was home. Ever found the transition relatively easy. Her view was more simplistic: for her, home did not so much concern the surroundings as it did the people in it, namely, Mummy, Daddy and brother. 

For Moth it was harder. Moth had begun to grow familiar with his surroundings. He was in a comfortable routine and had established relationships beyond our home. Moth was old enough to know what he was leaving behind. We tried to prepare him in advance, but it's hard to explain the unknown to a child with delayed speech. We tried, but he didn't understand. 

We had a long drive ahead following a day that involved a lot of hanging around while two strangers loaded our belongings into a removal van. I don't remember the children being difficult though, despite the change that hung forbodingly in the air with the potential to infect their behaviour and wreak further havoc on the day. In fact, they seemed to welcome the adventure, the lack of routine, and the novelty of their grandfather and uncle's presence to help oversee our preparations for departure. We visited the little park around the corner a couple of times, but mostly watched the comings and goings of the removal men, the furniture gradually diminishing around us.

It was a relief to finally close the door, leave the spare key for the new owner, and get into the car, adrenaline pulsing through us and temporarily postponing the sheer exhaustion of the last few days. Moth and Ever were happy to sit in their car seats and watch Charlie and Lola and Stuart Little, on the DVD player, while we put miles between us and our first family home.

Moth's cries on our arrival, just before midnight, pained me. We had turned the DVD player off at his request an hour or two before, and he went to sleep, blissfully unaware that his world was about to change. He stirred as we were unloading the essentials from our car, his howls drawing attention from the open window of the flat opposite. I carried him into the house and he seemed to resist. "Back to car! Back to car!" he repeated over and over again, until, too tired to protest any more, he let me settle him to sleep in his new bedroom. 

Everything was different the next day. Moth and Ever were refreshed after a good night's sleep. I'm afraid the same can not be said for myself after an uncomfortable night on a damp mattress with no coverlet, and then the arrival of a small army of removal men at dawn. The adrenaline rush from the day before was ebbing, but my two small children were unrelenting, so I pushed onwards. 

Moth and I ventured to the local shop, a two minute walk away, and we restocked our fridge and freezer. His face lit up when he saw the community garden opposite, a place that would soon become a favourite haunt of his. After lunch we walked to the big park, just half a mile down the road and as beautiful as I remembered from our first visit nearly a year before, when we went to view the house that was now ours. We played and explored for the rest of the afternoon. 

While Moth's behaviour proved to be a challenge over the next few weeks, he didn't express any further distress towards the move, but seemed to settle in his own way, and by the time he joined the nursery class at the local primary school, a few weeks later, he was familiar with his surroundings and comfortable with his new routine. 

What he will remember of our former home is uncertain. When we returned to visit family two months later, he did not show any recognition, especially when we attended our old church which had been a big part of our weekly routine. Now he seems completely at ease with life as it is, and we have received more support than we could have hoped for from his school who recognise his need for additional help. 

Moving Moth was never going to be easy, but I believe it was a move that came at the right time, and I am confident this place has so much more to offer him and Ever than the town they were born in. For the last eighteen months I have watched them flourish and grow into themselves and I am so incredibly proud of them.

Three Decades

A weekend of celebration lies ahead as I reach another milestone in my life; Saturday being the last day of my twenties and Sunday the first in my thirties.

It's looking to be a quiet start to my fourth decade, our plans to go for a drive in the mountains tomorrow put on hold due to the heavy rain and strong winds forecast with the arrival of Storm Eric. I think everyone with a February birthday should be entitled to a second birthday in the summer months. 

But I know my birthday will be special in its own way. Tomorrow we will make a cake and let the children help. Then, on the day itself, the weather is supposed to clear up so we may have an hour or two to spend at one of the local country parks, between church and the arrival of my parents later in the day. 

Whenever my birthday comes round each year I can only ever feel gratitude for the time I've had so far. I've never been one for turning twenty-one repeatedly. Three decades seems quite a long time to have walked the earth. 

This last decade has been especially sweet. I graduated from university with a first class degree in English Literature and Creative Writing. I have uprooted twice, moving a few hundred miles at a time and across the border into another country on the second occasion. I bought my first car, and several more  subsequently. I bought a house, sold it, bought another, better house. It's fair to say I didn't do most of these things on my own. I got married to my first and only love. Together we have contributed to the human race, with the arrival of Moth and Ever. My twenties have been nothing short of personal achievement. 

I regret that this isn't the decade that I've succeeded in becoming a published author but it's always good to have something to carry across to the bucket list for my thirties, along with setting up a home business in candle-making. And I continue to write and have ideas and so I hope these will turn into a book someday.

I intend to keep my expectations low for the decade ahead, although I can only wish that my thirties will be just as good as my twenties have been.