You’d think with summer over and a definite chill in the air that shorts and sand would be on hold until next year.

Nope. They have Rowdy’s temper to keep them warm 😳

Inspired by real life (as always) and the #inktober2020 project running on instagram. Some great daily prompts here so expect some more Rowdy&TheBobcat images relating to the random word drawing challenge through this month.



For those of you unacquainted with Scotland this is a major heritage site – the Wallace Monument on Abbeycraig, Stirling which reopened to the public last week.

One of the many cool things about the monument is that it has a couple of walks up to the summit, one of which (from the car park) features some very skilled sculptures on the route…including a mini-Wallace monument. William Wallace (very deceased) was reportedly well over 6 foot tall so he probably would have made short work of this ascent. But you can imagine him and his advisors looking down towards the River Forth snaking below them and planning their strategy vs Edward I of England’s troops at the infamous Stirling Bridge. The hills in the background are the Ochils but if you like hills, there’s plenty of them to see from the top.

British Stupid Time

We’re learning a lot about time. Analogue clock faces. Cheaply sourced watches. Short hands, long hands (currently spared the second but it’s only a matter of…. oh nononono). Puzzled faces (non-analogue) over time length. You’d have thought naughty step experiences would have given some kind of reference point but then I still naively take them on hikes forgetting the daily reaction to the school walk, “Whyyyyyy is this taaakiiiing sooo looong? My legs are soooo tired.” Knees buckle, bum sags, gazes t’ward clouds in pose of supplication.

Night and day though. That’s fairly black and white, no? Surprise, no! School ran a project involving a teddy bear, teddy bear pyjamas and a diary for each kid to take home of a weekend. Mission: put the teddy to bed at sundown. Mission: ungradeable. No one noticed it getting dark. Too busy doing jigsaws, preparing stews, finding odd smells emanating from behind radiators and other traditional wintertime pursuits. Does this project run in schools above the Arctic Circle?

Springing forward and leaping back…..whoa-ho, whole other realm of crazy. Where does the hour go? How does it know its way back? Does it have a map? Is it the same hour each time or is there a rota system? Is it linked to deja vu? Did Cole Porter omit the Scarlet Pimpernel of the time world when he wrote ‘Night & Day’? Does Doctor Who know where it is? Fairly sure Rowdy THINKS she knows because 4yr old logic has no limits.

And then there weren’t 3.

To clarify there is no baby in there. Nor are there plans for a baby to be in there. Even more unlikely if the method of Rowdy’s tenuous grasp of human reproduction is followed: “like penguins feeding each other. Only with spit not food.”

This would have been enough in itself but it came after Rowdy casually lifted my jumper the week before, frowned for inspection and asserted, “Mum, you should really go for a run.”

Not “Hey, Mum, you’re making that porridge-belly look rock” or “Oh, the site of my incubation! Sorry for the inconvenience. I’ll back-pay rent” but the child equivalent of Burgess Meredith in Rocky.

Complete with stop-watch.

And clipboard.

And an irritated mood conveyed merely by the ‘tic-tic‘ of a ballpoint pen release.

Cobbed out.

Me: “Want sweetcorn?”

The Bobcat: “Sweetcorn is my enemy.”

Me: “Really? You normally hoover it up.”

The Bobcat: “TOMORROW I liked sweetcorn. THIS day…..sweetcorn….is….my…ENEMY!”

Me: “Thanks for clarifying.” [Replaces glasses.]

The Bobcat: “oooooOOoohh. GRaaaavyyy. SWIM, PEAS! SWIM!”