I took the children on a beach holiday last week. We stayed on a nature reserve: Wow, it was stunning and refreshing and SUNNY!
The Dartford Crossing which spans the River Thames: worth the traffic jam waiting to get on, just to see my Boy's face.
A mile walk to the Beach. My little man walked the whole way there and back on his tiny legs.
A quick stop at the Nature Reserve Information Centre
World War II bunker. I have the bruise on my head as proof of its low doorway. Clever.
Heart = melted. My Boy drew this portrait of me in his holiday book (writing aided by Panda Girl) and I dissolved a little inside.
We visited the sandy beach 3 miles away and spent two days catching freckles.
Back by our caravan Monkey Girl gasped "Look! Ragwort! Let's see if there are any cinnabar moth caterpillars on them!" There were. Lots. This girl knows her stuff.
A visit to Rye Harbour town. An anchor from a shipwreck found off the coast of the town.
Watching a show in the Heritage Centre about the history of the town.
Tudor houses and cobbled streets. I love my country.
Panda Girl delighted us all by discovering not one, but TWO hermit crabs. Monkey Girl was beside herself with excitement as she came tearing up the beach to show me, trying valiantly not to spill her bucket of sea water sand and crab. :)
Ballet Girl made a shark boat for her brother. He found lots of treasure sailing around in it. Of course.
Bedtime in a hot caravan, or cooling off on the doorstep and drawing the seagulls? No contest.
