Three weeks in the life of me

Did you miss me? I've been doing everything but blogging lately, so here is a pictorial wander through my recent life.

We were invited to a Lammas homewarming and stew-and-potato feast. The sun shone, the dogs ran, my daughter fell off a chair.

This very handsome man gave Rima her first ever lesson in archery (best to start with imaginary arrows)...

with a little 'help' from Pickle in her Miss Havisham dress.

With a little of Baba Yaga in her eye, Rima fired the best round of anyone.

Lisa joined her in music-making round the fire...

and it seems they (and the rest of us humans) enjoyed it more than than Warlock, our local alpha lurcher, who was more intent on the sausages sizzling at the end of his nose.

As the stars came out, Tom told us the story of Lugh, warming up his storytelling muscles for a performance at Uncivilisation, the second Dark Mountain festival. Very sad I missed his bear dance, but hoping to go another year.

My girl nodded and nuzzled towards sleep, until her kind Gappy (Great Aunt Philippa) took her into her Romahome for a snoozy snuggle so Thomas and I could drink and loll unfettered by a staggering toddler.

Other nights have been quieter, just me and my man and beautiful sunsets. There are huge rewards at the turn of the seasons. The rain can seem relentless, but I wouldn't leave this temperate, rainforest climate when I get skies like this.

We've been to Dartmoor Folk Festival to see more morris dancers and the genuinely alarming Minehead hobby horse.

I've completed another piece for my exhibition, which is now in five days (I will be ready; I will be ready; I will).

We went to Chagford Show, saw very impressive rams,

llamas which I thought were cute until one looked like it was going to spit at Pickle,

miniature donkeys - cute by anybody's standards, but the calf (do donkeys have calves?) was only three months - too young for so much fuss and attention, I felt.

We saw people spangling around the field in big bubbles,

 and the highlight - totally out-of-control terrier racing. 'Terrier' here means ' anything four-legged'. I'm surprised the llamas didn't join in. Once they've been thoroughly wound up and released roughly at the same time to go in entirely separate directions, there's the even more entertaining race between the humans to recapture their dog (who may well be barreling through picnics/toddlers/people perched precariously on stick-stools) and not be the last one yelling and lurching and grasping at thin air while the crowd laughs.

In relation to such ape japes, the beautiful heavy horses were a model of dignity, despite the silly hairdo's, 

and I was quite taken by the fine whiskers of this judge.

Sadly too late to get a stall of his own, Thomas's pixie doors (which now have a dedicated blog) made an appearance on the edge of Miriam's unique jewellery stall

and next to Yuli's stall of felted wonders.

We've been spending our Sunday 'family day' time picking gazillions (I counted) of apples in our incredibly abundant allotment. If you're local, we're looking for good homes for cookers and eaters. 

The trees actually seemed a bit relieved when we took the weight off them, but the three of us did a little thank you dance anyway, just to be polite.

And, most importantly, I have been doing hours and hours of this, soothing my girl as she grows her first molars:

What have you been doing lately?