Rebecca_In the Slow Lane

Versions of this letter have already been sent to our MP, Lead and Local Councillors, Feb 2021. We have spent the last few months studying Dacorum's housing plans for Berkhamsted and Tring; we are shocked and saddened to see the overwhelming extent of the plans, a 55% increase of housing in one single step for Tring, carving up vital Green Belt, beautiful biodiverse countryside and precious farmland.  As well as the increased pollution and traffic, we are extremely worried about the environmental impact, including the tragic loss of habitat and the continued irreversible damage to our precious rare chalk streams, severely endangered by this unprecedented housing plan. Tring is the friendliest of towns we've ever known, welcoming all who travel through, or choose to settle here to make it their forever home.  Within commuting distance of London Euston, it has grown organically and comfortably, expanding gradually to accommodate those, like us, seeking open skies, bucolic charm a

Photo: Lyndsey Abercromby Photography Like an ice storm in an abandoned teacup, Week 6 began.  I was feeling ill, the boys were squabbling because the oldest wanted to re-classify all the animals into geographical groups, a task fiercely claimed by his younger sibling; our youngest was adamant that all the jigsaws should be emptied onto the kitchen floor and then keep him in my arms all day.  After a tense start to the day, the dust settled. I distracted our four year old with a game, involving sounds written on a board, us reading them out and a spatula for bashing them with, whilst littlest joined in with the milk brush (jigsaw pieces remaining on the floor).  Our eldest was smuggled upstairs to secretly classify animals under the desk whilst his Papa led a whole year school assembly online. But somehow (thanks to A pushing back meetings to help me out and supply the ibuprofen), we made it all work and by lunchtime we were reunited on our now well used sofa, watching the heavy snow f

Week 5 began with fresh determination to make a go of it.  After giving up on the previous week, I felt a renewed sense of responsibility to make this a week to count.  It all started well, very well indeed. While the boys watched a little bit of morning CBeebies, I prepared some (screen-free) versions of the Reception activities to try to catch up on Week 4 .  If you've been reading my blog, you might recall that our 4 year old doesn't want to do any of the tasks if it involves a screen, which is a bugger because all the tasks have instructional videos, interactive slides and documents.  I had spent most of my Sunday night reading through all the tasks and ensuring I'd understood the Learning Objectives.  First activity was a quick matching animals to classification groups (easily done on a tablet) but our version was a to sort out our animal model collection (a beloved assortment slowly built up over years of regular trips to Whipsnade Zoo, which we miss so much at the mo

Week four was hard. So hard that by mid week, I declared that we were on early half term break.  Here's the negatives: Our youngest has been teething, cutting his back molars: an evidently miserable experience with a mild fever lasting a few days, which was especially bad in the evenings and all through the night, with lots of extra cuddles, tears and night feeding.  By day, he would become very upset if I ever tried to tiptoe away to make lunch/dinner/anything.  I had some tiresome PMT, making the days that bit harder.  All I wanted to do was curl up with a hot water bottle, cuppa and a good book.  Instead, I was content with round-the-clock Numberblocks and some sofa time with my babies. Tried to get some of the School Reception tasks done, but the resistance was strong.  Our 4 year old runs a mile from online video calls now and is showing all the signs of screen fatigue.  He's started talking about stuff now, which is huge progress and a big relief, saying: "The Corona

I went into week three like a mum on a mission.  Thanks to A's trip into his workplace, he'd printed off all the colourful resources (phonics, cursive handwriting, maths) so I got my Teacher hat on and smothered the kitchen walls with it, buggering up the paintwork with, post-it notes, blu-tak and sellotape.  With thanks to Oti's Boogie Beebies , I pre-made the packed lunches, complete with drinks and snacks. I also finally found my sense of humour, presumed lost in the back end of 2020.  Probably all thanks to the new POTUS and VP: Biden/Harris, bringing hope and joy to the world. Funny fun mummy gave hilarious voices to uneaten breakfast brioche, made up rhyming songs about animal habitats (cats/bats/rat-i-tat-tats) and did some spectacular gurning in the name of phonics (ur/ow/oi/ear).  By 10am, two out of three children were dressed and we'd ticked off some of the eldest's home-learning tasks.  But I still wasn't satisfied.   The sun was shining; we needed t

I'm disappointed to realise that I've not introduced you to our chickens yet: Sita and Flower.  In April 2020, when the shelves were emptying of free range eggs, we decided we needed to fulfil a life long dream and become chicken keepers. The advice is to buy at least three chickens (if one dies, they'll still have company and because with just two, they might not get on).  The chicken coop we'd hurriedly bought online was supposedly for up to 3 chickens, but when it arrived, I didn't see how they'd all fit in.  I had read about some hens- the lowest of the pecking order- being shut out of the brood and forced to sleep outside the door, so we just bought two.  Finding chickens to buy wasn't easy.  It seems that we weren't the radical thinkers we thought we were; pet hens were more difficult to source than eggs. After a tip off from a local farmer friend, we hurriedly called and bought two black Daisybelles from a local seller.  My husband (A) went to col