Listening in on Fistral Beach.


“Give it a magic tap Lilly”

A squeal of delight as a bucket is lifted,

and Lilly’s first sandcastle stands proud.

A little room for improvement,

with jagged turrets and crumbling  walls,

but isn’t that how a perfect sandcastle should be.

Built with enthusiasm

excited smiles, and

a bit of help from Dad.


“Dont knock it down yet!”

Lilly’s face crumbles

a little like the walls

of her sandcastle built,

but Dad has other plans

grand ideas for his pride and joy.

A row of ten and


“then you can knock them down Lilly”


Dad and Lilly work hard

Magic taps abound

buckets are filled and emptied

with salty tasting sand

and love,

and as the tide turns

Father and Daughter stand back

admiring what they have built



“Go on then Lilly”

With a hint of the rascal

a little girl runs,

jumps, twists and turns.

Sand castles once standing tall

now flattened with childish glee.


As the tide creeps in

bags are packed,

sandy little toes are dried

and a small hand is held.

Looking back over his shoulder

as the last remnants of their handiwork

are gently washed away

Dad smiles to himself.

“Well done Lilly”



By Alison Fielding x




Christmas Gratitude.


It never ceases to amaze me how much time, thought and planning goes into Christmas each and every year,  then in the blink of an eye it is done and we all begin to return to some sense of normality.  As we travel once again towards a New Year we can mull over the Christmas memories made,  and take pleasure in those special moments which make the whole pre-Christmas journey worthwhile.  I can still hear the groans of Joy as I ask my four special people to gather around their mum for that yearly Christmas photo,  but hey.. it wouldn’t be Christmas without it!

In a previous post I mentioned my love of Christmas and shared a memory of  ‘The year Santas’ elves filled my stocking’ .  It was a special moment that I thought was a  ‘one off’      but I underestimated the love and joy of giving that those elves hold in their hearts.


Having enjoyed listening to this Charlotte elf opening her 26th Christmas stocking!  I was given an instruction that went a little like this. ” Mum can you go and get my phone charger…its by the fireplace”.   Looking around and being unable to find it I called up and was told again and again to  “look for it near the fireplace” !!.   Still I couldn’t find it, then as my eyes caught sight of this the penny dropped!


Santas’ Elf had been busy and Mum had been treated once again.  My lack of expectation and the fact that an empty stocking always hung in its place, was the reason behind my cluelessness.   Overwhelmed with a mixture of childish excitement,  and a grown up sense of gratitude,  I went upstairs clutching my stocking and took pleasure in every little gift,  carefully chosen by those I love.  Nothing beats finding a stocking hanging by the fireplace on Christmas morning, but its the kindness, time and thought that went into putting it together that means as much to me as the presents inside.

Christmas is a time that brings families together and I am so thankful for the family I have been blessed with,  and for the fun, love and laughter that we have shared over the last few days.  For just a short while the cold outside is forgotten and the warmth inside envelops us all.


I hope if you are taking time to read this that you had a Cosy Happy Christmas and are looking forward to 2018.


Love Alison x











The night Santas elves filled my stocking!


‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there’……

Such a well-known poem that is still read today in many a house on Christmas Eve.  I wonder if   ‘Clement Clarke Moore’  had any idea how famous his poem would become when he penned it in 1822 nearly 200 years ago, It’s amazing just how long the tradition of hanging a stocking up on Christmas Eve has been around.  It seems that the reasons behind this tradition are more mythical than factual, but I’m going to leave you to look into that one for yourself as I share my own Christmas stocking story.

I love Christma  I love the childlike expectation that still fills my heart and mind as I hang a stocking by the fire, and I love the traditions that my family and I have forged together year on year.  I love watching and listening as my now grown up children start to think about what they will give each other and their mum, and I love the thought that they put, not just into what to buy,  but in the careful wrapping of each individual present.  Oh and I love Christmas Stockings.

As a new family, my husband and I continued his family’s Christmas tradition with our own children.   On Christmas eve we would sneak into their rooms, play Santa and fill their stockings with small unexpected token gifts which always included a bag of gold covered milk chocolate coins, and a satsuma tucked deep in the stocking toe.  The other day I sent a text to my children on our family ‘whats app’ group asking them what had stayed in their minds about their stocking.  Two of them came back with the memory of that satsuma,  with one complaint as to how difficult it was to open the presents quietly in the middle of the night,  as each one was wrapped individually.  Kevin you were supposed to wait until the morning!… and I always knew!  Once over the excitement of what Santa had left they always had one main present each from their mum and dad after a hearty Christmas breakfast.


I’ve kept the same tradition going every Christmas and I have so many lovely memories of those four stockings which became little sacks with initials on, eagerly waiting to be placed at the end of the bed each year, well past childhood.

Even though as an adult I clearly knew the truth about Santa (just),  in my years as a single mum having crept into their rooms and completed my Santa duty,  I always went to bed with a tiny remnant of childish hope that there might be a surprise on my bed in the morning…… then one Christmas morning there it was!  On waking up I saw a red velvet stocking laying at the foot of my bed and Santa had definitely been, or at least he had sent his elves.  All those years of filling stockings for the ones I loved the most had come full circle, and together they had filled one for me with a whole host of little things that they knew their mum would enjoy.   That one moment on that one Christmas morning made everything that had gone before worthwhile, and is one of those precious moments that I will always cherish.

Having just shed a tear at my own post and the memory’s it invoked, I would like to encourage you all to keep the tradition of the Christmas Stocking going,  if it’s lasted for all those years however it started its got to be a good one,  and who knows maybe Santa or even his little elves will fill yours one day too.


Love Alison x