Up high

I love being up high.

I remember when I was a little girl I used to love being up in my Daddy's arms. I would look around and down to the ground and think there was no higher place to be. The world looked entirely new and different.

I wondered what it was like being up that high all the time.

Even now when I'm doing things up on a ladder I like to just pause, look and wonder at that different world.  What would it be like having that view as your normal every day?

One day, I'd like to climb Everest. Can't get much taller than that.

Up in the highest seats in the dance studio.

Acorns

I've always loved acorns.

There's so much potential wrapped up in an acorn. Just imagine! Those enormous, shady trees coming from this sweet little parcel. 

Amazing!

They always remind me of little faces with cosy hats. Sometimes I find my hands longing for a black marker when I pick one up. I want to draw a little face on it...and find a way of fashioning a little body somehow. 

When I was a little girl I loved picking up the little acorn "caps". I would think they were bowls for fairies. I'd fill them with flower petals and leave them under trees, imagining that the petals were sweet honeycomb that the fairies could eat. In my mind I could see fairies and imaginary woodland creatures wherever I went. I believed that the fairylands that I read about in my Enid Blyton books truly existed. 

Secretly......I still do.

But acorns hold a very special meaning for me. 

After my son was born, his Granddad (my late father-in-law) was holding him. He was holding his sweet little starfish shaped trident hands - which is a feature of achondroplasia. As he was holding my son and looking at his hands, my father-in-law said to him in the beautiful, quiet way that was just so him......

"He's a little acorn.
Remember what little acorns grow up to be Tim.
They grow up to be mighty oak trees."

It was one of the most beautiful moments I've ever witnessed.