Horrible Histories

Have you ever played charades with little kids, or even little -ish kids?  God, it’s hard work.

On a babysitting stint the other night, one of the kids suggested we play charades. “Go on then, it’ll be a bit of fun before bedtime.”

Little Dandini hasn’t learnt the difference between a word and a syllable yet so her 5 word mime was proving a bit tricky until I had a flash of inspiration:

“Hannah Montana,” I guessed.

Thrilled that she’d done such a good charade that I got the right answer, she leapt up and down with excitement. I gently tried to explain that Ha – nnah  Mon-tan-a  wasn’t 5 words, it was two words and 5 syllables. Her glazed expression and crestfallen face persuaded me to move quickly on and ignore her teeny mistake. Note to self. Think laterally.

Next up was L. She leapt around sword fighting, dancing, talking, running, dying – you name it, she did it. Me and D made guess after guess – all wrong. Eventually we gave in.  She looked at us like we were a bit slow and informed us that it was,  “OBVIOUS!!  It was Horrible Histories!!!!”

“So Liv. Was that the whole history of the world you were acting out then?”

“Yes. Of course it was, how else are you going to guess it?”

Oh.  Silly me.


The more intuitive among you may have guessed that things haven’t been exactly brilliant around here for the last little while. Over the last week or so I have truly felt like far more had been placed on my shoulders that I was capable of dealing with.

On my usual walk through the wood with poochie today I was trudging along feeling a bit down and sorry for myself when I became aware of the the sound of the wind rushing through the trees, the dappled sunlight and the dog looking up at me with her big, beautiful eyes. I suddenly realised that I felt truly happy.

“It’s not such a bad old life after all”

Isn’t it funny how getting back to nature, even for a little while helps to get things back into perspective.  No matter how down I feel, when I’m out in the countryside with the dog, at some point  I’ll lift my face to the heavens and thank God for all the things I have to be grateful for. This walking lark is better for far more than just exercise, it’s good for the soul as well.

It was nearly an epiphany!


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s