take nothing but memories

This could be a post about parenting teenagers. Mostly, it’s about the sheer absurdity of my life.

We are currently working hard on big daughter’s art coursework. Fortunately, this mostly involves hanging out on the beach. She had a plan that needed driftwood, so we went searching.


We found sticks. We found branches. I really liked the look of half a tree, but we had to abandon that one on the grounds that we couldn’t shift it without a team of huskies. Then we found It. We’re pretty sure It used to be part of a boat, but we’re a bit vague on which part…

It was pretty big. We had to do a fair bit of dismantling right there on the beach, but that’s ok, we had a penknife and a lot of determination. We reduced It to one large plank. We checked- we could lift It. Plan was good to go. We carried It back to the car. We got a few funny looks from golfers on our way.

We’d had a little suspicion all along that It might be kind of a tight fit in the car. Turns out, we’re not great at estimating size… We did the removal van thing of turning It round every which way. It was not going to fit in our car. Not forwards, backwards or sideways. Not even if we left a child behind (big girl was blatantly considering which sibling to abandon). We paused for thought. None of us admitted the slightest flaw in our plan to take It home with us. We felt an attachment to It by now, having got this far.

We thought hard. “We need a saw!” For some reason, we’d come on holiday without one. We hid It in the grass at the side of the golf club carpark.

So, that was the day when we drove to Berwick, bought a saw (“The man on the till thought you had to be 18 to buy a saw, but he was wrong!” she exclaimed gleefully), sped back down the A1 to the golf club carpark (“What if a golfer has stolen It?” someone asked, in panic).

I’m happy to report that all was well. It was still there, unmolested, in the grass. My children reduced It to two more manageable pieces, with great zeal. The golfers looked puzzled, but in time honoured British fashion, not a single person asked us what we were doing.


Big Girl is very happy. She has two pieces of It, and a saw of her very own. I am clearly the best mummy in the world…



Leave a comment

Filed under crafting, favourite places, insanity of the offspring, memories

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s