under the blackwood tree

There I was for weeks counting down the days until the school holidays arrived. Imagining slow mornings when our body clocks woke us rather than our alarms, when we ate when we were hungry and all pitched in to clean up afterwards, and when we hung out together in the days on the farm getting things done and at nights playing games or watching movies. It would be the perfect mix of restful and productive. Everyone would get what they needed.

This morning, on the very first day of the holidays, I woke up to the sound of Bren on the chainsaw getting an early start and the girls only looking up from the film they were watching to ask about food, their own arrangements, or about the weather.

And all of a sudden the bubble of my idyllic holiday popped and it hit me that for the next two weeks I wouldn't be able to just grab some secateurs and gloves and go down to the plum orchard to finish the job I started yesterday, I wouldn't be able to grab a snack on the run, and there wouldn't be a time when someone wasn't talking to me or asking me to do something.

As I sat at the kitchen trying to drink my coffee I decided it was probably easiest to give in to them and give up my personal expectations of work for the day. I listened to a discussion of someone's camping arrangements, someone's birthday party plans, and to someone else's cough. I answered questions about boots, bus timetables and movies. And in my mind I saw all the spring planting and pruning and weeding that I needed to do over the next two weeks as a butterfly, slowly fluttering its wings and heading for the skies.

While the school holidays would be a lovely rest from all the driving, the homework, the exhaustion and the alarms, it looked like it was going to be rather unproductive on the farm front.

But just as I was contemplating the new plan and trying to come to terms with putting my own needs on hold, my farmer boy came in and reframed the whole scene. The girls would come down to the plum orchard and spend the morning helping us pull blackberry out of the rows, and in return we could look after them this afternoon.

It took me a few minutes to get rid of my earlier disappointment and fall in love with the new plan but when I did, I saw that it was golden.

With the smallest suggestion everyone got dressed in farm clothes, grabbed their gloves and secateurs and headed down the hill. We mowed, we raked, we yanked all those prickly blackberry vines out of the rows of plum trees and currant bushes and then we fed them to the fire.

After a few hours the girls took themselves off to find the swing Bren had made and hung for them when they were little under an enormous Blackwood tree. When they discovered that since their last visit a couple of years ago it had grown a thick thorny jungle, they started cutting a path in. Vine by vine they cut and then carried to a pile outside the tree. Vine by vine their path lengthened. Until they reached their dad-made swing.

After we had finished what we were doing we helped with their path for a while. It was gorgeous working for them and listening to them reminisce about playing under there when they were tiny and make plans for lots of swings under there in the future. I still can't decide if I should take the brush cutter to the blackberry jungle and clean it all up for them, or if the path between the prickles makes it a bit more fun and magical.

I am feeling a bit more optimistic about these holidays now too. With four extra hands (two are away camping), we should be able to get things done a bit quicker than usual and have extra time for their plans. I like it.

I hope you're finding some sort of balance in your world too.

Are you good at remembering what you need when life gets a bit crazy?
And how do you manage to fit school holidays into your routine??

I hope you have a wonderful weekend!

Lots of love,

Kate xx