A few weeks ago, we had a couple of kid-free days. Imagine, no wake-up calls, no well... anything! We faltered around for a bit like new-born foals, wondering where to place ourselves. We went out and had lunch, and at the end, we remembered what we'd eaten! We played cinema roulette, big mistake, but the perfect opportunity for a little snooze!
The following day we decided to walk the substantial mileage (the long way) to Frodsham, our neighbouring market town, to take back a DVD. Armed with left-over pizza and some chocolate buttons (some habits die hard) we went on our way. It was actually rather lovely.
Although remarkably quicker, the car would have stolen from us the opportunity to see how our local landscape has changed in the last five years, or at least the non-buggy-friendly bits. Houses have been built, new benches erected and a horse track of some grandeur (its all rock and roll).
One thing that, thankfully, hasn't changed is the Magic Faraway Tree. Well, I say magic. It probably isn't actually magic. Faraway, on foot, yes. Essentially there is a wood between here and there called Snidley Moor. Now if that is not the perfect place for a Magic Faraway Tree, I'll eat a spoonful of cinnamon (try it, or don't, make someone else try it, it's really funny, probably best it's not a child, I digress).
Herein lies a tree, a largely hollow tree, it claims to be one of the oldest birch trees in the wood. You can well believe it, gnarled and cloaked in lichen, you have to hope it won't suddenly breathe its last gasp while you're fondling its nether regions because inside is a notebook and the tree invites passersby to add their thoughts and musings.
This is a special tree because we discovered it on the day that we found out I was pregnant with The Boy (Yes The Daddy did walk me that far, we were novices!) but we didn't add a note about our news - we were buzzing with excitement, think it was superstition that stopped me, even with all the wood to touch - I wish we had though, for posterity and to perk up the content of said narrative. It is mostly 'Hello from the Wednesday Ramblers', 'Hello from the Thursday Ramblers'... do you see my point?
I would like to suggest to The Powers That Be (The Woodland Trust, I think) that it should be made a Wishing Tree. A safe harbour for your hopes and dreams in this crazy, stormy world. And it would make taking the kids, when the time comes, that little bit more magical... and better fodder to get stuck into while eating your picnic.
Grandparent Appreciation Moment
I would like to say a (words aren't big enough but gigantenormous almost does it) thank you to our parents for affording us these days of being kids again, or at least not being the parents. All our love xxxx
If you liked this, why not also try: Walking with Monsternauts and Not That Primrose Hill!
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No Fun Mum
Children's Picture Book Writer (in waiting) and Expert in Pre-School Conflict Resolution!