Slices of country life

I want Lady P to get something a little hard to express out of this, and subsequent, trips to the UK - as well as quality time, of course. I want her to soak up a bit of Englishness. A sense of home. And that home (sometimes) is a place with wonky stiles over misty meadows, where eggs are kept out of the fridge, and postboxes are red. Where beaches are not packed with volleyball nets and fringed with palm trees. Where sheep and ducks exist in fields, not just in storybooks. Where marmalade and marmite, scones and 99s are eaten. I also wanted her to do lots of running around, raise her stair climbing skills (we have none at home), be windswept and to splash in puddles.

I am getting it.

Practising on the bandstand steps, like her cousins before her

Grazed knees

Gleefully shouting 'baa'

Damp, slightly cool sand

Literally licking the marmalade out of the little dish it came in

I reckon a few weeks of this every year will keep the little English girl inside her alive.