I have started running.  Well, I say running, but what I have actually started could best me described as 'ralking' - more walking than running.  On day one I was almost mown down by a car as I couldn't hear it's engine over the noise of my wheezing. Admittedly, after a week I have almost graduated to 'wunning' but it's a slow progress and highlights what I have come to admit to myself - I'm a Southern wuss

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"Hello?  Is that Dawn Isaac?"

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So we survived our first NGS opening relatively unscathed.

In all honesty I would have liked more visitors, but considering we were all wrapped up in jumpers and one person was designated the role of “holding onto the gazebo so it doesn’t actually fly off’, we probably did OK

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It’s been nearly eight years since I dragged my husband and baby daughter away from the dubious delights of Shepherd’s Bush into what we might loosely call "The Country”. (I like to pretend it’s properly "The Country" but we’re only two miles from a Waitrose and two minutes from the A1 so let's face it, we’re hardly talking rural isolation.)

Why? Because I wanted a bigger garden (and there was that drugs incident which I won’t go into here…

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Image source: NGS/Palatine Primary School
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I am the woman who asked for a swing for her birthday, so no-one should be shocked when I say that for Mother's Day I treated myself to a new wooden kitchen for the garden playhouse.

With accessories... obviously

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On Sunday I was recovering from a progressive supper. 

For those of you unfamiliar with the concept, this is when you have a dinner party on the move - starters at one house, mains at another, dessert elsewhere.  And as if having 15 couples traipsing through the village between courses wasn't intriguing enough, you don't actually know who you'll be hosting before they turn up, and no idea where you're headed next until you open the envelope at the end of each course

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“How much pocket money do I have?” asked my daughter this week

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Photo Source: Sitting Spiritually Read More...