So, the Bears and I took a wee break from normality over the weekend and pitched up at one of our sub-urban, wild camps. Back to our roots and the origin of man… Gathering sticks and shelter building.
We thoroughly expected it to be a busy weekend where we normally camp, with it being such good weather, but surprisingly most people seem to have headed to the coast and so we had our spot all to ourselves, although I suspect this will only be temporary as we share the area with the local motor cross enthusiasts normally.
Both BB3 and BB4 are both reds and whilst I don’t have the hair colour, I am exceptionally fair skinned and burn incredibly easily, as do they and for that reason, we tend to avoid the coast during the hottest days. Lobsters on the beach should be food, not a description of your family day out!
We tend to head for the trees on our days out and for our camps. There is nothing more soothing, in my opinion than the sounds made in a forest by the wind in the trees, it has its own melody. The added advantage of there being few people who share our passion for woodland ensures that we rarely have to deal with rowdy crowds or unruly youths. No seagulls to attack you for your food and a lot less littler. For us, it is our idyl, only lacking in a clean, running water source, but we can’t have everything!
Where else could you feel safe allowing your babies to wander out of sight?
The Bears and I love nature and three of the four of us all love the colour green so this is our absolute ideal. Little Man isn’t so keen but he has an addiction to tech that we are fighting to undo and so as much as it pains me to force him into the car and away from the television, he and I both know its for his own good and he soon comes round to it.
Little Miss, however, give her an axe or something to start a fire and this little wizard is off. You have never seen anything so adorable as a tiny 5-year-old wandering through a clearing with half a tree on her back. She is one tough cookie, that’s for sure and I am immensely proud of her for her spirit.
I am proud of all of my Bears, young and old, mine and adopted but these two make my heart burst. I appreciate them in ways I never had the chance with the older sets; always too much to do and too little time to really take notice of them. Now they’re all grown up and I missed some of the best years without even realising and so I refuse to do that with these two.
So as much as they hate me for forcing them to participate, I make no apologies. I just hope that in years to come they will look back on these times and be glad of them.
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