Autumn campout

Many years ago I heard something on the radio about the importance of the 'den stage' in a child's life to his/her development. The presenter likened the passing through period as a process of metamorphosis.

I have long forgotten which channel this was on as I would love to listen again.

My son has been totally engrossed in the 'den building stage' for years now. Any opportunity to go out into the wild and build a shelter of sorts and he is 'on it'. Over the years we've admired his incredible constructions and been in awe at his ingenuity for creative thought. We've visited and dined out but to date no one has actually sleep out in one; although unsuccessful attempts have been made.

Just a month or so ago, some lovely friends visited whilst passing through the area and a wonderful den was constructed directly beyond the garden. A sleep out was proposed and agreed but when the push came to shove, firstly it rained and the sleeping area wasn't adequately covered and secondly as a result all the bedding became soaked. We tried a 'take 2' after a quick fix of sleeping bags in the tumble dryer but the moment had passed and plan B; a night in the house, came into play. 

So last weekend with a sudden rise in the temperature I suggested to the boy that if he built a shelter that was cosy, safe and dry, that I would sleep out with him.

The first attempt was the airiest shelter ever. Just a lean to construction that in no way met my requirements, plus it was right outside my neighbours house in a very open space! NO WAY!

Without wanting to shatter his dreams I told of my dilemma and so we moved the den to another site.

A tad more thought was given to the second attempt. It was still a lean to construction with fir branches to provide a covering and pallets as sleeping platforms. The cushions from the garden furniture became our mattresses and with the addition of the 'all important' tarpaulin to keep the rain off, we were sorted.

So, dressed in onesies and sleeping bags all laid out, our adventure began.
The boy created a good fire, perfectly situated within a surround of old bricks and a roof tile. He's so proficient at making fires these days. I tried to light it first but it soon failed. My services were quickly disregarded and the 'expert' stepped in and had us glaring in awe at the beauty of the flames in no time.


We forgot to take any tea bags out with us so rather than venturing back into the realms of the domestic home, we harvested a few nettle leaves and sipped nettle tea - the perfect bedtime tonic!
It was an incredibly warm night for a change. In fact, good job too, as in my exhaustion I couldn't do up my sleeping bag. Little tush was fine poking out!

I was informed early in the evening that if I knocked the support poles the chances were that our den would fall down. No pressure to keep still then!

It was great! I loved it! Our heads poked out a little and our covering didn't quite shelter our top halves but thankfully it didn't rain. What struck me though was how incredibly noisy the countryside is at night. I could hear the wind whistling across the fields and around us but amazingly it didn't actually touch our little patch AT ALL! The deconstruction of our den in the night might have added to the adventure but as it was, it was perfect. I woke to the sound of screeching owls - most likely warning others that the newly constructed 'blue blob' was in fact harmless!
We lay laughing and giggling as we woke in the morning. We survived a night in the hedgerow :-) and what fun it was too!
The adventure wouldn't have been complete without breakfast so eggs for me and sausages for him.

Me and my boy

Last Saturday I planted the seed for a Sunday 'muddy welly walk'. Well as you can imagine the response from a house full of children was ecstatic! 'Yay! We can't wait!' No! The reality of the situation was that the girls being all too busy these days just couldn't, so that just left myself and the boy. At least someone shares an interest in the wonderful excitement of the British outdoors!
The boy is a born adventurer, it's in his blood.
So we donned the boots and comfy clothes and equipped with a snack-packed Star Wars rucksack we ventured out on our seven mile hike.

*Incidentally, I dismissed the boy's suggestion to take water as we weren't going far and later regretted that decision as it was actually quite warm!

I cannot tell you how lovely a day with my boy was. I live my days in constant worry of him as on a day-to-day basis, he's not interested in learning the things that his schoolboy-peers are gearing towards. As he told me 'Mum, when we have an Alien Apocalypse, I'll be fine!' Right! That doesn't make me feel a whole lot better.

We've recently started up a history group with a number of other families. For the past two weeks we've been learning about Prehistoric Britain. It's incredibly interesting! My boy is totally a 'Hunter gatherer man' in the making. Already, at the tender age of ten, I am confident that he could survive for a few nights in the wild. But how relevant are these skills in today's society where life is all about how well you did in your exams (how good your memory skills are), whether you can use a computer and how much beer you can sink? Listening to the young man gibber on - undistracted myself, was a heart warming experience. My boy may not be taking the traditional path but he is filled with knowledge and not just that, he is able to apply his knowledge to everyday situations. Barely ten feet passed when I wasn't alerted to something fascinating ....'Look at.....did you see?.....Wow!' I really was blown away.

A mile into our walk and I was put in a position out of my comfort zone. A dead pheasant next to the road, clearly a victim of a 'hit and run' crime. The boy lifted its head and with the onset of rigour- mortise the whole body - flattened in its mould to the concrete, lifted with it. Hmmm! He carefully lowered it down and took a step forwards, then out came the string.......

Look at that mischievous face!

'Boy!'
'I'm taking it.....'
'Surely not! You have no idea how long it's been there'.
'I'll take it now and smell it. Besides, I have been looking for a real target. I need to see if my arrows will really penetrate through flesh'.
Oh boy! Yuck!
But I cannot knock him. Although a lover of animals and all living creatures, he has a point. Better to test your arrows on a dead pheasant then to badly injure a living one!
So there we were two lonely travellers walking with a road-killed pheasant onto the grounds of a local shooting estate. This was going to be interesting! We engaged in conversation about what we were going to say should we be challenged carrying said 'dead pheasant' dangling on a piece of string!

It wasn't long before dead pheasant became heavy and the string was cutting into his little hands. I was not about to offer my services! The boy of course had a solution and tied his piece of string onto his walking stick (another essential walking implement). Now looking quite a lot like Dick Whittington, we carried on.

We could hear a keeper in the woods, even passed his gun sleeve and jacket, but we were not challenged and thankfully, neither were we shot!

Selfie....pheasant had to be in on the act!

Our walk was full of incredible finds. We tracked animals from their droppings and faeces, we filled our Skittles pouch with blackberries, we picked fresh watercress from the stream and Boy of course hopped in and found a couple of crayfish hidden under stones which he wanted to bring back but you know, I wasn't too happy offering to carry those!

A mile to go and the need for refreshments incurred. I was so pleased the boy had thought to bring some little snacks and rather disappointed in myself for dismissing the need for water. Hey ho! A little rest in the shade and we were off on our last leg home.

Fresh watercress....it rather wilted by the time we arrived home but was non-the-less delicious souped!

I learnt so much from my boy during that walk which I realise that in my bid for him to toe-the-line I am quite literally distracting from the person he is on a very strong mission to become. He has taught himself so many life skills. Okay so he may not be able to write or read at the level of kids of his age but he can survive and he knows about the real world not the mindless world that we are often living in through technology. I am actually in awe of him!
You go boy, go out and become a man :-) XXXX

Mother in a mother/father role

To all you wonderful father's out there, a very happy father's day! What exactly does that mean to you?.........

I woke up this morning and as part of my 'getting ready' morning ritual. I happened to glance in the mirror upon which I thought, 'I am playing the role of both mother and father to my children'. I know I'm not alone, many of us are struggling along making the best of the situations that we find ourselves in. Parenting is no easy feat to either mother or father but playing both roles is....well, let's be frank, 'not what I signed up to!' Us mother's need help, we need responsible males to act as role models to our future men, it simply isn't good enough to turn your backs on the younger generation and single mother's and expect them to function and do the whole job alone. The same applies in reverse for all the single father's out there.

Tea anyone?

I function on daily basis in the knowledge that my friends and some family members are there to support me.  But I have to confess I do feel let down. In the four and a half years that I have been on this parenting journey alone, not one person has genuinely taken my son under their wing to initiate them into the world of men, yet all too often I am faced with criticism relating to incidences of unruly behaviour. What happened to the old saying and action 'It takes a village to raise a child?' We shouldn't be faced with a world where we feel we are running the show alone.

On days when I'm feeling glum about the whole journey it helps to imagine how proud my late husband would be of me and of our children. He would know that I would rise to the challenge. Unfortunately he would also be rather furious of those who are part of my world whom have no or little involvement. 

Facing the parenting journey as a widow is a completely different experience to that of the single parent who has an ex partner who does at least have contact with the children. Unless you have an amazingly supportive family the widow's journey is incredibly lonely and one of survival. Everyday is challenging in different ways - you learn to accept your lot and deal with it the best you can - what choice do you have?

Fishing.....not a morsel caught

My boy is growing up into a lovely individual. Yes he does have his moments but generally I am hopeful that he will one day become a  decent and caring individual, he'll certainly have a good knowledge and much experience of women; it would be difficult not too when surrounded by three of them! He's always been an independent chap but now I'm seeing the fruits of my labour and his freedom coming to fruition.

This last week the boy has started calling me 'Sweet pea' - I love it! He frequently displays genuinely caring and compassionate behaviour; a sign to me that he is maturing in the right direction.

Despite living in a house full of females, he remains very much a male.
Recently I've admired how my boy has developed and mastered strong survival skills, from his own innate curiosity. I encourage him to help out around the house but more often than not he uses his own initiative and gets stuck into a task. The boy works hard, he's a grafter like his father; I've never witnessed such determination and a thorough hard working ethic in any other man. Just this last week I made the decision to cut down a tree that stood in our gateway which unfortunately had become diseased and died. The boy (with a little help from his sisters) saw and helped with the job from the cutting down right through to the final clear up of all the twigs. Not once did he complain or bore but laboured on alongside me.

The remaining tree stump took on a new role in the garden the following day. The boy arose early sourced all his tools and beavered away all day creating a platform for himself (and his cup I was later informed!).

I'm not just witnessing practical skills, there's also a sense of care for animals. This little fledgling was found rambling on the ground near the boys newly created vegetable garden. He brought it in to show me, having been keen to rescue it and keep it from the reach of our moggie. It makes me smile to witness how he returns to check on such creatures time and time again :-)

Tadpoles are interesting creatures....

The poor boy witnessed one of his guppies die this week. It took three whole days for the poor little fish to make the transition. Fen, although upset initially, almost seemed relieved when it finally passed and gave a great deal of attention to burying it in the garden. I was in the bath when he returned from his duty and he slipped one arm around the door, not wanting me to see his sadness as it had obviously been an emotional moment for him. Later he told me how he had created a grave and covered it so that the cat couldn't dig it up. Upon inspection he had drawn a heart, F and B for 'fish' and 'bubbles' on a piece of slate to mark the spot.
It's tough for me dealing with things outside of my comfort zone on a daily basis but even more daunting for the boy having to live in a female dominated household. He copes amazingly well and remains true to himself and his being. I feel so privileged to witness his journey into manhood unfold, I just wish his father and other significant males were available to witness it and be apart of his life too.

Spot the newt

Best of friends....