As the evenings get longer and lighter, our routine shifts and changes to make the most of them. Where in winter we would normally head from dinner table to living room, these (relatively) warmer days see us heading out and down the road with the dog.

Each child has their own activity on the walks - Georgia uses her new cycling skills, Ellis and the dog race into the woods, Theo scoots and I knit or drink tea as I walk. 

Everyone, however, has time for dandelions.  I have probably said before, but I have such a fondness for these cheery yellow flowers, after a childhood spent with a father hell-bent on eradicating them. At the first sign of their notched leaves, he would send one of my brothers out with the sprayer to douse them with a potent mix of weed killer to ensure the greenness of his lawn remained unbroken. If a cluster happened to escape the spray, there were few crimes more punishable in our house than blowing a dandelion clock on our perfectly manicured garden. Wishes were limited to birthday candles, stars and eyelashes only at the Goldin residence. 

Though there are 30 years and thousands of miles between the ban on dandelion wishes and myself, something about the feathery globes lining our road still excites me.  Maybe its the childhood rebel in me that has never gone away, who knows.

And my kids are allowed to wish to their hearts content...as long as they stay well clear of my veg patch...because the seed doesn't fall THAT far away from the stalk.