Oh dear, Sammy’s daddy has to sleep with wet toes tonight because he was silly and changed Sam on the bed without putting a mat beneath him. Sam turned on the hose and made his daddy curse, until he was reminded how lovely and cute his son is and then it was cuddles all around again. Toes will still be nice and soggy in the morning though.
Yesterday (now two days ago as Sam got in the way of this being updated when I actually wrote it!) saw everyone save Bill and Sam pile into the Entity and go on a moorland adventure. Bill decided to stay at home with the boy as he was feeling terribly rough and needed extra time to recuperate from the journey, and poor Sam is suffering from a sniffly nose as a side effect from the flight so we thought he ought to stay at home and take it easy too. Sam is quite the snorting monster at the moment.
We weren’t sure where we were going to end up as we left Ashridge and once at Yelverton Dad made the decision and we headed off past Princetown (bleak home of the famous Dartmoor Prison), through Widecome-in-the-moor and onwards towards Haytor. We didn’t quite get as far as that though as Molly got awfully excited en route and couldn’t wait to get out for walkies. We pulled into a small car park beside the road as a couple of tors caught our interest and we went to explore them.
Heading off towards the first tor we laughed as we realised we could have just driven up to it as there was a road hidden just over the brow the of the hill which would’ve taken us to another place to park right next to it. Not quite the walk across onto open land we anticipated! Doh. Still, continuing up past that tor and onto the next one further on the horizon and we were good. We clambered up to the top and sat to survey the marvellous view.
As always Molly found the first letterbox when she dived beneath an outcrop, and Dad pulled it out as he chased after her to keep her out of trouble. She’s a keen letterboxer that one. We must have found at least four on our walk and to be honest it was rather disappointing. The sport has obviously become too populist and with the exception of one box we dubbed them “litterboxes” instead. These were badly hidden (or not even vaguely hidden) tupperware boxes with terrible half hearted stamps and soggy books inside. They mostly seemed to be put out by children and weren’t too impressive.
We were just commenting on this sad decline and trying to put the latest obvious eyesore of a box back a little more discretely in its hiding spot when I hit metal instead of granite and on further investigation pulled this beauty out:
Score! A bona fide, decent, proper letterbox! It’s been a while since we found one of those amongst the copius litterboxes strewn around. It was a shame though as the guest book was new so few comments to read, and no clues as to the whereabouts of other decent boxes in the area.