The last few days, in photographs.

A secret cave, reached only by boat and much talked about!

Watching for seals...





There they are!




Amazing dog like creatures transformed by full moon and too long at sea into 'silkies' : magical woman-like creatures to lure fishermen overboard.

Necklace making in PJ's. A good start to the weekend!




Check it out Mummy - nice huh? :)



Night time sewing a piece of vinatge fabric into cushions and bags and snipets of little wallets for holding things.





An old outgrown vintage design shirt waiting to be turned into something.... a washbag?



My favourite shelf in the sitting room. Photographed.. just because!




Isaac intrigued by Don's drawing.



We have spent two days at the Red Kite centre. Amazing place. Two grubby worn out boys flopping asleep after hours of walking and playing and watching birds swoop down for meat. We took a walk with a woman who helped us identify the local trees and plants and the boys played in dens made by some teenagers in 'Forest School'. The friendliest teens I have ever met. No photographs though as I had Fe in the sling and a heavy backpack to cart and a big lens camera was just the icing on the cake I could do without. The most beautiful valley though. Just stunning in that quiet still way of Welsh hills. Spoke to a woman on holiday with her dd and when she heard I actually lived right here! Well I felt so lucky. But I do in any case. Daily. Boys and I on our own during the week right now while Don works away. Strange and quiet at night. Distant dogs barking take on a more menacing tone and the calling of owls and bleating of sheep are louder than I have ever noticed. The trees are so noisy! Really, like the sound of a rustling busy motorway. Who ever thought the country was silent? Planting up my echinacea this week but will not flower until next year and roots not be harvested for many moons after. Calendula, chamomile, parsley, spring onions, nasturtiums, er... 'hemp' and lavender growing wildly, looking forward to harvesting them but enjoying their growing period imensely. Baby hares scattered through our garden like raisins at the moment, drawn from the fields to sample the millions of buttercups. One little brave thing, daily, creeps closer to the house and a particularly large mass of yellow flowers. He could sit easily in the palm of my hand, the boys, breathless, watch with wide eyes.