Wee Daftie and I had a chat yesterday and she said that she really wanted to go for a muddy walk. Considering how much it rained yesterday, and how soggy we got, I figured that today would be a good opportunity.
We essentially went the same route as yesterday because walking the Water of Leith is one of our favourite things to do and there are so many paths to take so it’s easy to have differing walks over the same paths. We started at a different bit to yesterday and wandered along, spotting squirrels, blackbirds, one yellow wagtail and absolutely hundreds of small birds that could be sparrows or tits or finches…some small tweeting things that all look very similar from a distance!
We have a couple of bird books and I have a fab app called Seek downloaded on my phone so we do frequently do some detective work when we spot a miscellaneous creature. However, often the little tiny chirpers don’t really stop moving for long enough to snap a decent pic.
We set off after breakfast, at about 10am, and made it home for lunch. A big bowl of soup to warm our bodies and our souls. It was another big and brilliant walk and my girl was a star. I don’t take her stamina and willingness to do this with me for granted. Not at all. I am always amazed by how far and how happily she can and will walk. We do have fun when we ramble but I don’t take it for granted at all. And I make sure to tell her how very proud I am and how proud she should be of herself.
Anyone who knows me well, knows I struggle with my face. Not how it looks, but how easy it is to read my emotions. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, I wear it on my face. I never want Wee Daftie to think I’m not taking her seriously but, mainly because she’s only four, her stories are hilarious. Which is fine when she’s being intentionally funny…but when she’s telling a “sad” story, it can be really hard not to giggle.
Take today, for example. We were on the bus home from our big muddy ramble, cuddled up on a seat upstairs when she says, “Mammy, can I tell you something sad?”
“Yes of course, pet, you can tell me anything.”
“I had a bad dream last night.”
“Oh. Did you? Do you want to tell me about it?”
She nods. “I had a dream I was eaten by a badger called Frank.” Pause. “Then he ate all the sharks.”
“Oh. Was he a mean badger?”
“No. He was nice! He saved me.”
“From the sharks?”
“Yes! But then he ate me. He tried to eat the bees too.” Dramatic sigh.
“You okay?”
Another sigh. “Yeah.”
“Do you feel better for talking about it?”
“Yeah. Thanks, Mammy.”
Never mentioned Frank again. I probably shouldn’t have found it so funny but there was something so comical about how she was talking about it all. I think the context of where and when she decided to tell me about her dream. She has had nightmares and night terrors before; the former always waking her up and the latter always waking ME up. We had also spent the whole morning together at this point so it was surprising to hear about this matter of fact bad dream so long after it happened! Bless her and her wonderful imagination. I hope she keeps it for as long as possible…just hopefully it doesn’t keep her up at night 🙂
Steps hit well before we started heading home for lunch today. We had a cuddle up and watched Beauty and the Beast as a well earned reward. We’ve raised ÂŁ260 so far, which is wonderful. I can’t wait to see where we end up at the end of the month. #TeamRefuge
https://stepup.refuge.org.uk/fundraising/step-up-by-stepping-out-a-lot
Travels With My Daftie 