About us

We are a hard working, family of eight. Swimming in the sea when we aren't busy on our small holding. Daddy dragon has to work away a lot, so this blog is to let him keep up with our adventures at home.

Friday, 26 February 2016

A frosty stroll

These boys have enough energy to power the British railways.

Hence, it was lovely to see some sunshine,

and get them outside for a run.

It has been so wet,

this winter.

Not that boy hatchlings mind the puddles.

I can not believe this hatchling 

has grown so fast.

He was the brave big brother, pulling sheets of ice out of frozen over water troughs.

Meanwhile, hatchling no7 slept.

And hatchling no6 patiently tolerated the cold.

It was a lovely frosty stroll.

Wednesday, 24 February 2016

Our project for today

I will post the finished project tomorrow.

Happy Thursday!

Toddler truths

Frosty midweek morning

This February has been mild in so many ways.

The winds have been unseasonally relaxed, but the temperature clearly lost the memo.

It snows heavily on and off most days, leaving us with this dusting of snow.

I like it. 

It reminds me a little bit of winters in Canada, while growing up.

There is not half the snow, but the excitement is still there, and the smell of fresh snow.

I do miss the quiet of a heavy snowfall. 

This morning's snowfall was punctuated by cross seagulls, and bleating sheep.

Nonetheless, I am thankful.

Her guardian hairball

Sunday, 21 February 2016

How we party on a Saturday night.

Easter egg sundaes!

Half a large cadbury egg, 

filled with strawberry and chocolate fudge brownie ice cream,

covered in whipped cream, chopped mars bars, m&ms, mini eggs, and chocolate sprinkles.

Happy hatchlings on a Saturday night.

Friday, 19 February 2016

Happy Friday

Another week has whipped right past.

So, to celebrate the weekend's arrival we are making this - 

Our first baked chocolate cheesecake.

In hopes of achieving the light texture of our vanilla cheesecake.

I'm going to try this recipe -


But in cheesecakes past, I have found that 'soft cheese' just doesn't cut it.

I'm using 200g ricotta, 200g marscapone, and 100g 'soft cheese'.

May your Friday be cheesecake good!

Wednesday, 17 February 2016

To our littlest hatchling

I feel sometimes as though I ought to apologise,

for the bigger hatchlings in your life.

The 1 year old hatchling in particular, she adores you.

The truth is that they all do.

They had a relatively quieter baby hatchling'hood, to some degree.

They did not have quite so many voices shouting 'You are my sunshine.'

They had slightly fewer hatchlings who just have to squeeze them, the moment they open their eyes; even though dear baby hatchling, your eyes have only just closed.

They had fewer sticky fingers stroking their soft tufts of hair, fewer interruptions to their milk meals, and fewer crazy drivers for their pushchair.

There were fewer comments on the appearance of their nappies, fewer pesky pokes, and yelled, 'I love yous' right into their ear.

And for all that my mothering guilt is fed by the knowledge that I have less time to spend gazing adoringly into your beautiful blue eyes, and more times that I have to wake you to attend to their needs.

I'm not actually sorry, my smallest sweetheart.

Not even a little bit.

Because we have not yet had a baby hatchling with more adoring fans,

With more listening ears for each and every coo,

with more eager arms to snuggle them.

I am not sorry because you have an amazing team of best friends, who will have your back no matter what.

I know that you would not trade the cacophony of love that surrounds you for my undivided attention.

(Though I am sorry, that you have to go out with jam in your hair. Sometimes.)

Friday, 12 February 2016


*Mary Poppins voice*

"Come on hatchlings, let's go."

(15 minutes later)

*Batman voice*

"I said, Let's go."

Thursday, 11 February 2016

Chicken lessons

This hatchling heard that the ancestors of chickens were dinosaurs.

Hence, he took it upon himself to start training them in dinosaur.

The conclusion was reached that chickens really need to work on their, 'Roar'.

A school day

Wednesday, 10 February 2016


Do you ever have days that feel like that? 

You are day 41 of 365, and it dawns on you, that year is sneakily slipping away. 

Spring is fast approaching, which is an a bit of a mistruth, here in Orkney. 

Spring is a blink and you miss it occasion.

 Down south, spring starts with daffodils, and crocuses, and gently the leaves unfold.

Here the trees are barren twigs until suddenly on the final day in May, there is a burst of green and Summer arrives full on. 

Yet, I feel this huge to-do list weighing on my shoulders.

Spring is an incredibly weighty time of year.

We want, need, want... is a very long list of painting, tidying, rebuild, newly building, breeding and organising. From lambs and chickens to new home ed projects, and adventures we want to enjoy.

And through it all work is paramount, and there is just so much maintenance. 

I think it must be time to declutter, because I am seriously feeling overwhelmed by all there is to care for, and I in no way mean to imply anything that breathes.

And so I plead with the days that rush past, to gentle and slow and allow me the chance to catch up, before the year over takes me.

So, with all this on my mind, we went out for a walk. 

To breath the salty wind, relax and remember, that in the whole of this great big world, we are only small, and that is just as it should be.

Monday, 8 February 2016


You call for me at midnight
You call for me at four.
Sometimes with a gurgle
More often with a roar.

The night is big and lonely
And you are oh so small.
You'd like to see your mummy
And so, my love, you call.

It's late and I am sleepy
An so, my babe, I grumble.
And as I pick you up again
You hear my tired mumble.

But nonetheless I hold you
Rock you back to sleep.
I promised I'd be there for you
A promise that I'll keep.

Then maybe later down the road
(In eighteen years or more!)
You'll call me once again, my dear
At two, or three, or four.

And once again I'll grumble
I'll moan that it is late.
But I'll always come and find you
I'll never make you wait.

And there might come a day
When you are a parent too.
And in the middle of the night
Your child will call for you.

And then you'll understand
The precious love so deep.
You wouldn't trade it in
For a thousand nights of sleep.

Yet sometimes you'll be tired
You'll think you had enough.
Then you can call on me
I know sleepless nights are tough.

Whether you're a baby
Or when you're fully grown.
You can always call on me, my love
You'll never be alone.

And though there will come a day
When we will be apart.
You still can always call on me
I'll be right there in your heart.

Breathing out

Brighten your beams

We have a hatchling or two, who have the odd tendency to dwell melodramatically. 

I have quoted this to them so many a time, that when a hatchling boy said something negative and blue about himself, and I rested a hand on his shoulder, he looked up into my face and said, 'I need to brighten my beams don't I?'

Yes, I reminded him.

Brighten your beams, because you are so precious and dear to me, if only you could see. I do not want you to spend your days with your worries written upon your face. Instead, paint your face with laughter, and keep only the best of times.

We don't throw away our favourite food, toys, clothes, or books.

We keep the best and get rid of the rest.

The same goes for your soul, your face, your life.

Piggy whisperer