School Runs, Slow Worms and Half-Drunk Cups of Tea We’re a month back into the school routine and already I am counting down the days until half term; a welcome break from the tidal wave of school emails.  Honestly, I think I now have more admin to deal with that’s school-related than I do for my own business!  I’m not claiming that the holidays are serene. They’re often messy, loud and dominated by snacks (and more snacks). However, I really do relish the gentle mornings and, if work doesn’t beckon, the prospect of a day together to potter……in the garden, the kitchen or wherever we find ourselves.  It can sometimes take a day or two for us all to find our rhythm together again but we get there.  However, for now the routine ensues.  Alarm clocks, school runs, work squeezed into windows of time, clubs, cooking, reading, bed…..and repeat! It sometimes feels like being strapped to a treadmill, set at 70 miles an hour, and the ‘off’ button has been sabotaged. The weekend calls seductively with promises of endless time to recharge and also ‘get things done’ but, in a flash, it too has whizzed past. I know people talk of slowing down and being in the moment and I try. Sometimes I fail miserably! Sometimes I do just manage it and, when I do, it is always most rewarding when I am outside. I find myself stopping to inspect plants in the meadow, a new mole hill that has appeared, the gradual changes in the landscape. I also make a mental note to relay my findings back to the children. They are like sponges and soak up information like Juan Sheet (if you know you know, if you don’t then Google Plenty kitchen roll and you’ll find him!). I’ve made a habit of pointing out species when we’re out and about, or even just in the garden.  I’m always amazed by how much they remember…… even when I think they haven’t been listening!                      Just this morning, while on a site survey, I came across a baby slow worm and immediately took a photo to show the children. They are used to me obsessing over slow worms (they are awesome, of course, and also the subject of our second children’s book), plus they love seeing pictures of what I find in the wild….. and even better if they can spot it themselves (both Percy bat and Sammy the slow worm can be found at our home). We’ve also been fully embracing, and collecting, the bounty of the 2025 mast year (although I’m not too keen on the golf ball sized acorns that keep dive bombing my car as I’m driving!). The mast year is a time when trees and shrubs go crazy with their reproductive efforts and produce an overabundance of nuts and berries. Apparently, it’s a strategy to overwhelm squirrels and the like, so that good proportions of the seeds actually make it to germination.  Sounds like a ‘win win’ for both parties to me plus we now have a huge stash of conkers to play with.  Anyone remember playing conkers as a child? Is it still a thing? My two love finding conkers in their spiky casings and guessing how many are squeezed inside.                    It’s moments like these, little sparks of wonder and curiosity, that fuel Great Oak Farm. We want to create books that gently share knowledge and clothes that help children feel proud to be outdoorsy and wild. It’s only when you immerse yourself in the natural world that it soaks in to your bones, to your soul……like osmosis in a way. And with understanding comes compassion and, I believe, a desire to protect. I want my children to understand their environment.  I want them to feel connected to it. It’s easy to feel like we’re doing too little. That we’re not teaching enough, not adventuring enough, not “living the values” enough. And yes, they love to chill with Netflix and have screen time. It’ all about balance…..and sanity. The magic moments don’t have to be defined by grand gestures. Sometimes, it’s pointing out hedgehog poo in the garden. Or noticing the pinks in a particularly enchanting sunset or when the elder flowers appear. And I believe that those tiny moments add up. They create memories and build a relationship with the land, with the seasons and with each other.So, the next time you’re outside, whether on the school run or putting the recycling out, try to notice one thing. The smell of the grass, the colour of the leaves, the patches of moss on a wall. Pass it on, tell a child. They might just surprise you with what they remember and, better yet, they may come to you with their own discoveries. With love and half-drunk cups of tea,