Thankyou so much for your messages about little P going to school. She settled so well and the new little bits of routine - hair plaiting, start-rite shoe buckling, finding her coat peg, are just lovely. The most helpful part has been having her friends with her.

I cleared a drawer for her school uniform and found this photo.

It’s my Gran, Grandad, myself aged three and my sister aged just a few months in 1975 (a spot of evidence here for the hair issues to come). Finding this precious piece of history and sending little P off to school got me thinking about photos - you know, those images printed on shiny precious paper that aren’t so common nowadays. I got digging to see what I could find.

The same two sisters twenty odd years later.

A duffle-coated, three-year old Mr P in 1973.

1982, and I had a special friend called Mr Glockenspiel. We played at the Liverpool Philharmonic, me and Mr G (along with about a hundred other children and a couple of Mr G’s cousins).

1997. Is that really me? Where is Mr G?

Someone or other by the side of Lake WIndermere in a tiara she made in 2001 (it’s ten years next year).

This is the only digital image in the post but it’s a precious one.

It’s April 2008, I’m 36 weeks pregnant with the littlest P, and the day after this picture was taken I wrote my first blogpost. Even more special is the fact that I’m making jewellery - there are so few pictures of me doing this that I think I’ll squirrel this one away in a separate file. I’m enjoying the little posy I’ve picked too - I’m trying not to yearn for aqualegias and bluebells at the moment.

Oof, I enjoyed that. It’s got me curious though - I want to see your old photos.

Having been rather nervous for several weeks, eldest P woke excitedly this morning and we had breakfast round the dining room table. Usually we just grab it as we can but I thought a new ritual of family breakfast would help to ease her into the new school routine.

She opened a card or two and a couple of little presents. She got dressed. I plaited her hair. She was delighted with her new bobbles - a thoughtful present from Gina. (Thanks again Gina - as you can see, they’re perfect).

She had a wobble when she had to leave Monkey - her sidekick since she was six months old. She settled him down with a picnic of flowery buttons. I plan to take a picture of him, laminate it and put it in her new pencilcase. I should have thought of this earlier.

We drove to school. She was excited to find her peg and drawer. She settled to sticking sequins onto a nametag. Three of her friends from preschool sat round the table with her. She seemed content. We said goodbye. The settling-in programme the school had organised at the end of last term has paid off. That was it. There were no tears - I couldn’t quite believe it. The relief was huge!

Afternoon nap last week

And how am I? I’d been keeping the slight sadness in a box and fending it off with housework and baking. I got it all out last night. I had to dig out the easy viewing DVDs and a couple of tissues. I might need a spot of chocolate this morning but I’m holding it together.

Some of the shapes made by the shadows of the jungly garden on the walls have surprised me whilst I’ve been taking these light pictures. They wouldn’t look out of place on a skirt or even a curtain. They might also find their way in some form into some future silver pieces.

Clematis, hollyhock, lychnis, Russian sage, rose and viburnum are responsible for most of these shadows. I photographed shadows of aqualegia seedheads outside early in the morning against the pink.I’d love this design round the hem of a dress.

Changes that are rather daunting are coming next week and stopping to take these photos in amongst the mad dash has been a helpful distraction.

Thankyou to Ali who’s introduced me to a new word - chiascuro, and who has joined in, taking pictures of her beautiful door lights, and to Trash who shot shadows in a newly decorated bedroom.

I am about to write a post about a wall. Bear with me.

This is a wall with some history. It used to be the outer wall of an old farmhouse, part of which makes up half of our cottage. The farmhouse was a patchwork of a building and we’re not sure how old it might have been. The window in Miss P1’s room has been dated to the mid 1700s but the knobbly logs and branches cobbled together with wooden pegs in the roof space might speak of something much earlier. There are hints of another, lower roof apex in eldest’s bedroom wall. Was this a medieval longhouse?

The portion of the cottage beyond the wall was added in around 1850. The little hole in the wall is my favourite spot in the house.

What was it? A salt hole? A teeny window, blocked off when the 1850 ‘extension’ was added? The village used to be a port. Clunch was shipped out from the middle ages via a series of Roman lodes and ditches. Some of the Reach clunch was used to build Cambridge University colleges. There were fourteen inns here when the port was at its busiest, not all of which were legal.

I like to think this was a tiny window used to keep watch for the constabulary whilst the room was used as an illicit alehouse.

The shadows that fall here are some of the most beautiful in the house. When I’ve been photographing the patterns of light and shade I keep being drawn back to this small place, not least because of its historical riddle.

Kettles Yard is one of my favourite places. It was the home of Jim Ede, an artist and collector and his wife Helen. They wanted to create a relaxed space where people could experience art in a home setting.  The style is pared down and minimalist, the colours are muted and excitingly they were as passionate about pebbles as I am. Sometimes Kettles Yard is called ‘The Louvre of the pebble.’ There is work there from Alfred Wallis, Ben and Winifred Nicholson and Barbara Hepworth. I visit a couple of times a year and it is a great treat - tranquil and inspiring.

Several years ago there was a photography project at Kettles Yard entitled ‘Light Spells.’ Photographs were taken of fleeting shadows, reflections, and patterns of light throughout the house. Some were taken with conventional, some with pinhole cameras. Some were even captured by simply placing photographic paper behind an object and letting light fall on it. I bought the book - it’s beautiful.

A month or two ago I began photographing shadows and light in our house. Our rooms are small and the garden is rather wild and woolly so the window light hits the walls to make interesting shadows and shapes throughout the day.

Next week I’ll be posting some of the images I’ve captured.

Play along if you’d like to - the sun has come out again here so there may be opportunity to capture a few more images.

It’s drear and wet out there. It’s getting UK bloggers down. Some are hiding under blankets, some are using jam-making as a distraction, some are eating cake and some are lighting open fires to burn their unused flip flops.

I’m not going to mourn the end of summer, I’m going to try and cheer us up. It’s time for my Scilly Island discs. Why Scilly Island rather than desert island? A 19th century Dutch ship dumped its cargo of beads there- they can still be found in Beady Cove. Oh, and my carbon footprint wouldn’t be quite so enormous as if I went to the Maldives.

Right, any mixed tape needs to start with a corker to draw you in: It’s the ultimate Stevie Wonder track but this is a film of Miss P1 dancing to it back in 2007 when she was about 22 months old. It’s a favourite film from our archive:

Next is a perfect popsong with Busby Berkeley references in the video and echoes of ‘I’m the unknown stuntman’ in the melody. Ah, dear Take That. They may be cheesy, but I’m very fond of them:

This is an anthem for anyone who hasn’t always fitted in. It starts slowly but is worth patience because eventually it becomes really joyful: Any song that begins with the lyric ‘I was never cool in school’ is a song for me:

No words are needed, except that it really does seem like years:

The Electric Light Orchestra. I identify with the hair. I really do.

Well, I feel a little better after that. If it’s chirped anyone else up too then so much the better.

Apparently the sun is coming back tomorrow. Let’s hope so.

We stumble through the door - a jumble of bags, cases, tired children and a dog. I put the first wash on and start to unpack. The holiday has given me perspective. The cupboards are like rummage sales, if not middens. The holiday has also given me energy. I start to tackle things.

Poor Mr P. He says I do this every year. I plough into the tasks: bags start to fill for charity shops and clothes recycling bins. I have thoughts of a swishing party.

I reclaim the nest. I rearrange things.

I plant the dahlia that I’d left in its garden centre plastic pot. It was crispy round the edges. I prune plants.

I wash all my grubby shopping/change of clothes bags. I find the row of these startlingly pleasing.

I have ideas for new designs.

It’s a double-edged sword. Things get done, but the holiday spirit is somewhat lost. I am rather taciturn and monosyllabic during the overhaul. I am also like a dog with six tails.

Mr P goes for a run.

I make amends by ordering a curry.

We share it.

Things settle back again.

I fall back in love with the house.

The new leaves have been turned over.

For now anyway.

Only in the second half of our holiday did my brain remember about blogging and that when telling stories it helps to have pictures. So, I can’t share Nanna’s apple pie, Whitby, Saltburn, the North York Moors or the meetings with friends with you as I should, but you can see me doing cartwheels on the beach over at Lucy’s, should you want to.

I dug the camera out when we went to Suffolk though. We saw things and did things:

Very cheerful fields, shown above

Tempting alternatives to the car

Perfect hedge veg

Forest adventures : we cycled for two hours - a first for me

Sandycrafts

Miniature wildlife

Alien invaders (giant puffball, as big as a football)

Cash crops up for grabs (wild samphire)

Unexpectedly beautiful sunsets

We ate things too, but I was busy eating and forgot to get the camera out:

• Fish and Chips in Aldeburgh,
• Dover Sole and capers in lemon butter at the White Lion in Ufford (good GRIEF that was good),
• Nanna’s home made shortbread (words are insufficient for this)
• Local plums made into crumble with real home-made custard (I had to sieve it though)
• Tiny meatballs simmered in passata with linguine and criminally huge amounts of parmesan (vaguely remembered from Nigella)

All these things have formed themselves into something or other around my middle.

It’s time to walk the dog, briskly.

…are the perfect combination of form…

..fabric…

…line…

…and detail.

When you step in the changing room you just know.

Oh yes, Mrs Teapot, you are ready for your close-up.

Lesley, you are a genius. Mrs T and I are both overjoyed. Tell me though, what can we make you in return???? I don’t think a cuppa is quite enough.

It’s the sumjmer holidays. This can sometimes mean squabbling - of epic proportions.

I needed new strategies and I needed them quick.

I grabbed chairs, tablecloths, pegs and rugs.

I made a tent. I put bunting on it (I know - I was desperate).

They still squabbled. There’s no ROOOOM in here for you!

I piped Classic FM at them. All was well until the dog got in the tent. It wasn’t pretty. So much for the Mozart effect.

I pulled out the big guns: a £1.50 bubble kit from the post office with heart-shaped wands.

I sat with a cup of tea and watched them. It was blissful for a while.  Then the bubble mixture spilled onto the patio.

Back to the drawing board. Anyone know how to make home-made bubble mixture? Do I need a chemistry lab?

EDIT: I found this link - Sugar! Sugar added to washing up liquid and water is the answer. I think I can manage that.