An Archer and a Date!

So, first, the Archer:

This is the latest in the Thomas Hine section of my Etsy shop and reminds me of how much Thomas loved archery. I remember one hot afternoon, while I did a workout inside, Thomas practising in the field with the sun on his back. He very rarely removed his top in public because of all the surgical scarring on his chest, so his skin was totally unprepared and he was too focussed to feel his skin sizzling. I have never seen such bad sunburn and it was even worse a couple of days later when the healing itching set in and we were visiting his grandparents. We had to keep sneaking off for me to slather his back in Pickle's nappy cream - I don't know what everyone else thought we were doing. Anyway, here he is, fully clothed and minus the Sudocrem, giving Rima a quick lesson while Pickle tries to help, wearing her Miss Havisham dress:

And now the incredible news that I have a date! I am playing with you here - I'm still a lightyear or two away from going on a romantic date, but I do have a date for my mastectomies after a hard year of waiting! I made my weekly phonecall, expecting the usual, 'We'll talk to him and get back to you' (which no-one ever did), but instead was told, 'Well, I've got you down for the 9th of June.' 'Oh,' I said, 'Will a letter be arriving sometime then?' 'I expect so.' she said. So, I am very glad I made that call and didn't miss my surgery because I didn't know about it. My house has been ready for months, in case I got a cancellation. Everything's down from my top shelves and I've bulk ordered everything from quinoa (dahlink) to baby wipes. (Yes, we still use them. I will use them forever for a hundred things.) I've put up lower towel and coat hooks and stockpiled vitamins and vegetable juice. By great good fortune Pickle's Gappy had already booked that week off for a dogsit which has been cancelled, so childcare for the first few days while I emerge from the general anaesthetic is covered and I already have multiple lift offers for getting me there for 7:30 am. Tom Hirons of Source Point Community Acupuncture will be sticking sharp things in me, setting light to stuff on my skin and peering at my tongue in a knowing manner, so all I have left to do is enjoy my lovely breasts while I still have them.

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?