Last of the Summer Ketchup

Mother of Copy - 18 Oct 20

This summer we bought a bottle of ketchup, specifically to store in the car. So whenever we stopped off at a chippy we could have as much of the red stuff as we wanted. More ketchup, less plastic waste.

But to me, this wasn’t just a bottle of ketchup. It was a symbol. A conscious declaration that this summer we would do more fun days out with the kids, instead of both my husband and I always working.

And so it turned out. We did loads more days out than normal. Most of them involved our new paddleboard, the sea, our dogs and chips.

And even though it was too cold for the sea yesterday, we decided we’d go out for the day anyway. We chose a pond to walk around, rather than the sea to swim in, and we were extraordinarily  late leaving the house.

In the morning I suddenly got it into my head that I MUST immediately learn how to do Google calendar to sort out my very fiddly diary over the next few weeks. And it turns out Google calendars isn’t something you can ‘just learn’.

It was mid-afternoon by the time we got to our destination, Frensham Little Ponds.

Nevertheless, it was lovely.

For me, when I push so hard with writing in the week, it’s important to just do family stuff at the weekend. To forget all about work. And yesterday was one of those times that I remembered to stop and appreciate all the tiny joyous moments of our day out. The boys laughing and playing in the heather together. Our daughter insisting on walking barefoot, even though the ground was stony and muddy. The homemade cake we’d brought with us, the way the dogs ran free…

It was late afternoon before we left. And I couldn’t face the thought of cooking when we got home. So we stopped off at a chippy and took the chips up to The Devil’s Punchbowl to eat.  And even though my youngest son insisted on wearing one shoe but not the other, even though the benches were damp to sit on and it was getting dark and cold, again, it was bloody lovely.

And that’s when the ketchup ran out.

Just like summer has.

But we squeezed every last drop out of both. And for that, I’m very grateful.

For more visit www.motherofcopy.co.uk

Mother of Copy

I’m Helen; writer, wife and mum to three young children. I grew up on a smallholding in Wales, my husband was brought up on an Irish dairy farm, and now we’re raising our kids on a school farm in England. We're original like that.

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