And now for something completely different....

Today I want to talk about my children and share a little of their artistry.  

My daughter Kaiy has inherited my artistic nature. She’s been drawing since she was tiny — I still remember the beach scene she sketched at age two or three. There were pebbles, rippling waves, and sand so vivid I could almost feel it between my toes. It looked like the beach we had walked on that very morning. She uses several mediums, pencils, paints, pastils, you name it she will produce beautiful images. 

Kaiy draws daily and journals too — not in a plain, boring notebook, oh no! Her journal is a kaleidoscope of doodles, reflections, and bursts of imagination. It’s part sketchbook, part storybook, and entirely her own.

Watching her grow as an artist has been one of my quiet joys. She shares her creations with me often, and each one feels like a little window into her world — sometimes whimsical, sometimes profound, always uniquely Kaiy.

She draws on the pages; her pictures are as much about the journal as the words that are written as she works through what is on her mind.

The recent demise of a certain Mr. Ozzy Osbourne brought about an interesting page.

Like me she loves to walk, so her art often shows me what she has seen on her wanderings.

Lately she has started Junk Journalling. 

And among the usual images I'm now seeing a different style of art.

I think she may have had enough of the Summer temperatures and is hanging out for Autumn.

Summer has kept her busy.

She loves Autumn and Halloween, I'm sure to get a plethora of witches and spooky images starting to appear soon then it will be Christmas, I wonder if she will draw her own advent calendar again.

This is just a little taste of her talent. 

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My son Jiffy Jonathan also sends me regular updates regarding his goings on. Lately, he welcomed a photographer aboard his fishing vessel, and the results have been nothing short of stunning. Seeing my boy captured in action — focused, capable, and completely in his element — was a proud moment.

Jiffy is the skipper of a fishing boat trawling for queen scallops on the waters of the Irish Sea. He works with tides and time, reading the water like a seasoned storyteller.

Here he is watching the net come aboard, laden with the ocean's bounty. The photos don’t just show a man at work — they reveal a life shaped by the rhythm of the seas. I’ve always known he was strong but seeing him through the lens of someone else’s artistry made my heart leap. He’s not just navigating the sea — he’s charting his own course, and I couldn’t be prouder.

 I’m grateful for these photos — not just for their artistry, but for the glimpse they offer into the man he has become. 

As if the photos weren’t enough to make me beam, Jiffy and his crew were recently joined by a videographer who captured their day at sea. The result? A stunning short film that brings the rhythm of their work to life — the hum of the engines and the clanking of the winch, hauling in the nets, I could almost taste the salt in the air. Watching it was amazing. Tony and I cast it to our big TV screen. There’s something deeply moving about seeing your child in their element, not just through your own eyes, but through the lens of someone who is there to tell the story. 

A day on a Trawler (take 2)🇮🇲🇮🇲🎣🎣

A linky if you'd like to watch the film, it's about 40 minutes long so grab a cuppa. 

If you watch the video, you’ll see that Jiffy inherited more than just my good looks — he got a touch of my artistry too. Just look at the knot he ties to close the cod end (The bottom of the net). It’s done in moments, beautifully tied it reminds me of an embroidery stitch I saw recently, delicate looking and yet it holds fast against the weight of a full catch. Then, with a few flicks and a flourish, it opens again — smooth and efficient spilling the shellfish all over the deck.

Jiffy’s been practising his knot work, and it shows. 

He’s produced some truly impressive pieces — not just functional, but beautiful in their precision. 

They may lack the vivid charm of our yarns and stitched threads, but in their quiet utility lies a grace that’s equally worthy of admiration.

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And next, my boy Joe. I don’t get many photo updates from Joe—he lives here in New Zealand, just up the road and around a couple of corners. Like his brother, he works hard to support his family. They spend a lot of time at the beach or by the rivers close to home, collecting driftwood for their fire and occasionally uncovering other curious treasures. One day, Joe came across a fallen tree. He returned with a friend to collect it, and something about it sparked inspiration. That Christmas, he gifted me a bench—crafted with his own hands from a piece of that very tree. 

He had some guidance from a friend, but the work was all his own.

Now it sits quietly in the corner of the patio, appearing from time to time on my blog with a quilt draped over it or tucked into the background. 

You can just see the bench in the corner of this image. That is Old Man tree behind Lucy Blue, he makes the bench a nice place to sit on a hot day offering shade and making a cool corner to sit and rest. 

Joe’s creativity is still growing, it doesn’t shout—it is settling in, like the bench he built from fallen timber. Over the years, the bench has silvered in the sun and softened in the shade, becoming part of the patio. In autumn, the leaves gather around its legs like Kaiy’s sketches—fleeting, beautiful, and full of quiet meaning. In spring, blown petals drift across the seat, like Jiffy’s fishing nets it catches stories on the breeze. Each one—leaf, petal, quilt, knot—is a gift shaped by hand and heart and left to settle gently into the corners of our lives.

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I’m so proud of all my children—not just for what they do, but for how they do it. Each of them has found their own way to shape the world: Kaiy with her sketches and journals, Jiffy with his knots and fishing nets, Joe with his quiet craftsmanship. Their creativity may wear different coats, but it’s stitched with the same thread—curiosity, care, and a touch of magic. Watching them grow into their gifts is the greatest joy of all. And now, they’re passing that love on—teaching their children to notice, to wonder, to gather fallen leaves and driftwood, and to find magic in the corners of the world. Their creativity is a legacy, stitched gently into the next generation.

This photo was taken in 2009  or 10 I think. It was the last time I had three of them together and clean at the same time.

My how they've grown.