In and out the dusty bluebells

Yesterday, after a fun afternoon of picture hanging and furniture assembling, we decided to strap the Darling boy into his backpack carrier and explore what lay beyond the fields at the bottom of our garden. The cats we have inherited with the house, Booboo and Phoebe accompanied us through the long grass as far as the bottom field. We then headed on, waving hello to the cows as carried on through their patch. We were rewarded for our efforts when we clambered down the hill and into a beautiful bluebell wood. The subtle scent of the flowers and cool air was delicious. We ventured on, after picking a few flowers as a posy for the kitchen table. We wandered down and followed the stream that occasionally turned into a small burbling river and out into a field where sheep must usually be, judging by the tufts of fleece scattered around.

It was all very peaceful and relaxing, so much so that Darling boy even dozed off for a short while in his back pack, all the while holding on tightly to his little drumstick that he had brought as his essential item for the expedition. Later that evening when we got home, darling boy carried on holding this little wooden drumstick all the way through bathtime and whilst he was having his milk. He almost certainly would have gone to sleep clutching this most prized possession, had we not have swapped it for Teddy at the last moment.

Next weekend we have our nearest and dearest joining us for a weekend of fun and a house warming / 1st birthday party for the darling boy and us. We have instructed them to bring wellies so we can all walk through the bluebells together. Hopefully we will also squeeze a few rounds of pooh sticks too as I have seen the perfect bridge just calling out for this most excellent of pastimes.