An investigation station

Our occasional investigation station is back, and it has a new theme - the seashore. It was easy to set up thanks to the wonderful finds we brought back from our recent trip to Dunraven Bay in Wales. My two little nature-lovers have been tempted into this activity again and again simply by my setting out the equipment and specimens invitingly and leaving everything there, ready when they are. Here's what's available:

Samples

1. A collection of small rocks, minerals, pebbles and fossils.

2. A selection of shells.

3. A piece of drift wood.

4. Prepared slides with plant material.





Equipment

4. A mini-torch.

5. Hand-held magnifiers.

6. A microscope.

Resources

7. A handmade rock-pool I Spy poster (made on location in Wales).

8. A wild flower pocket book.

9. A copy of the Spotter's Guide to the Seashore.

It hasn't taken long for the children to work out that if you want to use the microscope successfully you have to have very thin slices of material to enable light to travel through. In other words, the pebbles and shells, it turns out, must be viewed using the torch and the magnifying glasses - not shoved under the lens of the microscope. 

But, whether using the microscope or the magnifiers, there have been ooo-s and ahh-s aplenty, and it's been a great opportunity to investigate our favourite bit of seashore on a very different scale.

                              

Biology for beginners

We're just back from our beloved Dunraven Bay; a favourite holiday spot for us, where we always have adventures. We've been so many times now that I can track the growing up of my children by simply recalling what we got up to when we were there in previous years. I remember the buggy-on-the-sand struggles, the sandy nappy changes, the one-toe-in-the-sea-and-that-was-enough paddles. My children would dig in the sand, and play with shells and pebbles along with their toy cars and figures. They loved to waddle in the sand-pool shallows, and they would use their buckets for all kinds of busy fetching and carrying. A little more sophisticated this year, their activities included intrepid body-boarding in the icy cold sea, ambitious sand-fort and moat building, confident and nimble rock rambling, fastidious fossil hunting, film-making with Action Man, and proper rock-pooling - with an identification book and everything.

Using our tattered Spotter's Guide to the Seashore took me back to the biology field-trips of my undergraduate years. Is there anything more satisfying than finding which particular sea-lavender or limpet you've just found by flicking through the pages of such a book, checking the particular shape, colour or markings on leaf or shell? No? Well, I know not everyone gets a buzz from it - but I really do. While I hoped I was passing on my enthusiasm for ecology to the children, I also knew I needed to hold back a little. I didn't, for example, push them to count and record the number of bladders on seaweed samples in ten different rock-pools, or mark out 50cm quadrats for them to study biodiversity up and down the shoreline with the Usborne pocket book in hand. Those joys must surely wait another year or two.

Indeed the best biological thing we learned about the seashore habitat didn't come from a book at all. Paddling in the sea, as the tide was coming in, we spotted a hermit crab tumbling in with the waves. As the water retreated, the crab emerged from its whelk shell and resisted being pulled back into the sea with its characteristic sideways walk. This was amazing enough - Daisy named it Swirly because of the captivating way it let itself tumble and swirl with the incoming water, and we watched it repeat its trick over and over. Imagine then how exciting it was to discover at least fifteen more hermit crabs - all equidistant from each other (about 2m apart) - doing exactly the same thing as Swirly, like they were on parade or something. We ran up and down the beach waving and jumping at each other every time we found one; the shells punctuated the smooth sand like a row of fullstops; it was incredibly cool. For my own interest, I've been searching the internet to see if there have been any studies on this kind of tidal behaviour of hermit crabs (sad, I know) - but for my children, it will simply be the magical discovery of the crabs on parade that they'll remember. They need biology for beginners for now - so I can leave its formalisation to the hermit crabs because, it seems, they're absolutely brilliant at it. 

How to make your own Faberge eggs

I love making up craft kits to give as gifts to people I know to be keen makers. Here's one we recently created for my daughter's friend's birthday. She's eight years old, enjoys making things, and loves a bit of sparkle and glamour. We think this kit will hit the spot and go down a treat.

Here's what went into the kit:

1. a pack of polystyrene craft eggs

2. glitter glue pens in assorted colours

3. a couple of packets of foil sticker stars

4. two packets of stick-on gems

5. a trimmed section of an egg-box and a cocktail stick to fashion into a stand for the egg being decorated

6. a picture of some Faberge eggs for inspiration

[image from www.forbes.com]

And here's the kit box - decorated by my daughter...

Of course, we are now desperate to have a go ourselves, and as it's coming up Easter I think we've got a great reason to make some time to decorate some eggs - Faberge-style. 

The Lego Years

Although I adored my children throughout the baby and toddler years and marvelled at them during the preschool phase, when we held a birthday party for for my son on Sunday, I couldn't help but enjoy just how clever, well-mannered and sophisticated they are now that they're big kids. His party had a Lego theme - hence the birthday brick-cake efforts above - and we took a bunch of his friends to the cinema to see, you guessed it, The Lego Movie. To top and tail the party we simply put out all our Lego bricks and let the guests make what they would. This worked out brilliantly; everybody wanted to make something. It's safe to say we have entered a new phase of parenting - the Lego Years; it really does seem to be my son's go-to toy at the moment. It never fails to lure him in to some wonderfully imaginative, construction-based play. Our mantra of the moment is definitely: if in doubt, get the Lego out.

To find out whether he feels this is true, and to see what else he really likes, aged nine, we decided to interview him just as with our daughter here when she turned six. The interview took place during a sunny bike ride round the park when we talked about a whole lot of other interesting stuff too - lively conversation seems to come easily when we're pedal pals.

Yummiest food: cheese and ham omelette

Favourite word: 'basically' and 'deny'

Pudding choice: chocolate fudge cake

Best toy: new cuddly minion, old pink hippo and Snowy the bear. Lego comes second after soft toys

Pattern preference: tartan (any clan)

Favourite music:YMCA (minions' version)

Coolest outfit: kilt, with sporran, worn with Olympics 1948 T-shirt

Best film: Tomorrow Never Dies, Despicable Me II and The Lego Movie

Favourite book: Casper Candlewax and the time-travelling toaster

Happy Birthday to my gorgeous curly-haired boy.

The reluctant ramblers

The big news on Sunday morning was that, for once, it wasn't raining. So I hatched a plan to get us out and under those blue skies for as long as possible; to meet Daddy at King's Cross station where he'd be arriving on the 14:02 from Edinburgh. If that doesn't sound like we'd be getting much sunshine, well, let me tell you the cunning nature of this little outing - we were going to get there on foot. It was to be an urban ramble, if you like - but with a goal, a purpose - and the reward of seeing Daddy. This concept seemed to sell the idea to my children anyway. That and showing them some of the delicious snacks in my backpack and the promise of a hot chocolate once we got there - I'm not stupid.

We set off a little after midday, snug in our walking boots and winter coats, ready for all the puddles, pavements and tow paths we might encounter  - and headed towards the New River. This took us right into the heart of Islington but kept us pretty nature-orientated for the first part of our ramble-with-a-mission. We saw a frog, two squirrels, a cat and three wood pigeons, and spotted snowdrops, smelled some crazily early jasmine and tested out a mini-waterfall feature for the fairies by sending down leaves like little rafts into the 'rapids'. There was also the best tree in N1 to be climbed. We never miss that one.

We left the green and pleasant New River path at Essex Road station and cut across to Upper Street past  the Little Angel Theatre. When we got to Screen on the Green we made our way to Liverpool Road via The Old Royal Free residential development. Cloudesley Road took us to Copenhagen Street and then we picked up the Regent's Canal. We wanted to find out more about the history of these places - and made a note to 'Google' them later; it was all very intriguing round there. My children loved checking the map with me as we made our way back to the water - it was rather unfortunate that the entire route seemed to fall right on the ring-binder between pages 48 and 49 of our London A to Z. Why does that always happen?

Once on the canal's tow path, we stopped for snacks and a drink then completed the final leg of our journey with renewed energy - all the way to Granary Square. We rewarded ourselves with a well-deserved sit down and watched the wonderful water-fountain displays - which were really quite mesmerising and  most relaxing. With mere minutes to spare, and very tired feet, I encouraged my now slightly moaning and reluctant-to-move ramblers along the pedestrianised boulevard and into the newly refurbished King's Cross station - just in time to meet Daddy. I thought it had been a fantastic walk and, as you might predict, those hot chocolates went down a storm.

On the bus home, we calculated the length of our urban ramble. I turned to my daughter and proudly told her, 'Wow! Do you know, we walked three miles today! Isn't that amazing?' To which she replied, 'Whaa...? three miles? That's TERRIBLE! I can't believe I walked three miles.' And she placed her head in her hand, her hand on the bus window and closed her eyes.' Still a reluctant rambler then.

Advent adventure: 24th December

Today we opened the last drawer of our tabletop Advent tree. Inside, my children found a tiny trinket to hang on one of its branches and a strip of paper upon which was written a fun and festive activity. There's one of these for every day of Advent - I know that for sure because I came up with the twenty-four ideas, lovingly wrote them out and carefully placed one in each of the tree's diminutive drawers. Here's a photograph representing today's little Advent adventure.

Let's watch Matthew Bourne's Swan Lake at Sadler's Wells

Advent adventure: 23rd December

Today we opened the twenty-third drawer of our tabletop Advent tree. Inside, my children found a tiny trinket to hang on one of its branches and a strip of paper upon which was written a fun and festive activity. There's one of these for every day of Advent - I know that for sure because I came up with the twenty-four ideas, lovingly wrote them out and carefully placed one in each of the tree's diminutive drawers. Here's a photograph representing today's little Advent adventure.

Decorate biscuits to hang on the Christmas tree