Matthew is nine on 26 January

Would you find it strange if I sent you a birthday card with a picture of yourself on it? I suppose it depends on the picture. This one shows Matthew jumping from a great height into a pool of cold water. I hope he makes as big a splash as this in the coming year.

Matthew studies the water

This photo of Matthew reminds me of a nineteenth century impressionist painting. It forms one side of Sarah's reversible birthday card.

Robert hangs weightless in the stream

One day while in Spain last October we drove up into the mountains behind Benidorm to a set of ice-cold cascades hidden in a ravine. Here Robert hangs weightless in the stream, oblivious to the cold. I've used the photo to make a card for Sarah, his mother, whose birthday is on Friday.

Speaking is like singing

"Speaking a language is like singing. You have to hit the right note, otherwise you may as well not bother". This was my message in an article that appeared in FEM Business this week written by Maaike Veen. FEM Business is a Dutch managment weekly read by the sort of people who ought to be my clients. I wonder if I will get any new business out of it?

Thomas is not a Goth

Michele's son Thomas is a mean Trivial Pursuit player, but that's only one of his many talents. He's fifteen, plays the electric guitar in a band, keeps ferrets and is currently sailing through school. He lives in Loftus, a former mining village on the North Yorkshire coast and goes to a local school. I wish him luck there, and hope he sticks it out long enough to get a firm grounding before bursting out onto the world at large.

When Aodan was informed (wrongly, as it turned out) that Thomas was a Goth, he said he imagined him living in a bedroom with black-painted walls and sleeping in a coffin. He doesn't. Aodan came home from school one day this week and announced he had an imaginary friend...whose name also happened to be Thomas.

Michele

Michele has been friends with my Mum for over thirty years. She lives with her husband Nick and son Thomas in Loftus, a former mining town on the North Yorkshire coast. They live in a stone-built Victorian house with cellars and attics and with high-ceilinged rooms on each side of the front door.

The grass shone like silver

The days between Christmas and New Year, when time seems to stand still, were dull and grey. But on our walk on this particular morning, just as we reached a bluff above the Tees, the sun came out and made the dew-covered grass shine like silver.

Styles are meant to keep four-footers out

Styles are designed to keep four-footers out, and this one certainly foiled Kaspar. Despite all encouragement, he just couldn't manage it. Eventually, like Peter Rabbit, he managed to wriggle his way underneath.

Bush laden with berries

While in Hurworth between Christmas and New Year we decided to go for a walk with Kaspar. We saw this bush laden with berries by a bridge along the railway line.

Eating berries and drinking from streams

Last July, we walked up Coniston Old Man. Hill-walking in the Lake District is much harder than in the Alps. For one thing, there are no cable cars to drop you off half-way up. For another, the paths are not well signposted. On this particular walk, we unintendedly strayed from the path on the way down, and ended up having to find our own way, fording streams and paddling through sedge marshes. Also in the Alps, you get refuges at the top where you can get food and drink while enjoying the magnificent views. In the Lake District, you have to eat berries and drink from streams.