Hanging with the Dexters and pooh-stick practise

On Sunday morning the babies had had breakfast feast of weetabix, which is generally more worn than eaten. The adults then had their breakfast of home-made toast and honey, accompanied by coffee and warm milk, served in my great Aunt Theresa’s china jug with the go-faster silver stripes. We ate sharing bizarre conversations that only make sense to the very tired.

After breakfast, we decided to don our wellies and hit the hills. We made an unlikely band of merry wanderers; each of us was either carrying a baby, Cute as a Button’s little hand, or a clutch of cameras, beakers and tubs of biscuits and other snacks necessary to power little legs on long walks. We crossed the garden, ventured down the hill and headed to see the Dexters.

Whilst we were tramping across the fields, I happened to spot a fairy trampoline! Imagine my surprise! After seeing so many fairy houses yesterday on the farm, this was a treat indeed. The early morning mist had collected on spider webs on the grass to create a perfect gossamer canvass for tiny fairy feet to bounce on. Cute as a Button, who is a keen trampolinist herself at the tender age of 3 and a half was extremely excited and left a buttercup in totem to this unusual find, so that they fairies would have known she had been there.

Onwards, over the hill, through the gate, down the lane, over the stone bridge and through the gate, across the stream and we were standing next to the field. Handsome husband called the Dexters over, and as a young herd, they were extremely curious and cam running over to admire us. Dexters are a charming breed, who are the hobbits of the cow world. With tufty hair and stubby legs, they are munchkin in their size, but stocky and come in a beautiful range of shades from rich chocolate brown to oatcake beige that I’m sure they have inspired a range of Farrow and Ball paints. Tiny Cowgirl got to practise her skills again on the bovine beauties and they seemed to be very intrigued in her tiny figure waving away.

Cute as a button named each the cows and pointed out which one was which. The babies dined on baby organic crisps (which are basically wotsits for the middle classes, but they’ve got my number) and the grown ups rested their weary shoulders and revelled in the sunshine and birdsong.

After the cows had bored of our presence and had wandered over to the stream for a drink, we too carried on, into the woods and towards the stream to cross the bridge for a spot of pooh stick practise. Cute as a Button had collected a fine store of sticks to distribute to the willing participants. The competition began and winners were admirably victorious. Cute as a Button, on the way home back up the hill held onto my hand tightly and told me how she would need to practise at home, using the bath and a good stick. I’m sure the fairies will post her a suitable stick for training in Essex.