At the bottom of our garden we have a summer house.

This summer house has lovely sea views and a nice outside decking. It is snuggly perched between two ancient trees.

2020 was the year that the summer house was due to begin her grown-up life as an Airbnb.

However … yawwwn.

You know the rest of THAT Covid-story.

Not sure when this little container will be earning her keep, but the lockdown has given me some time to imagine what else I could do with her.

I’ve decided that as well as Airbnb, I want to design some retreat packages; fitness, well-being, art, writing, cycling and a 3 day juice retreat.

So this week, to change up the lockdown bubble, Reid and I decided to try it out.

We took ourselves on a mini-retreat to the bottom of the garden.

For me this also involved the 3 day juice fast part,  an early morning visualisation/energy alignment practice, as well as VERY early nights with a 6 year old boy who was convinced a raven that lives on the branch outside our summer house bedroom window was a parrot.

And needed to tell me about this for several hours before falling to sleep.

Anyways.

The 3 dayer was good. Total reset, step up and it stopped my booze n coffee train quicker than a masked bandit on a cartoon horse with a backpack full of dynamite.

And some other pretty mental, magical things have happened.

It’s been good.

We managed to drag Roo out of his bedroom and make him come out stomping.

Which meant he was then able to go swimming to the island in the reservoir.

We went out to hunt down the May Flower Super Moon …

 … and found her.

Went to the woods on the grey days …

… and ran / biked / dog-sprinted on the torrential rain day.

And then there was the summer house juice retreat.

Which involved juice.

More juice.

And … well. Yeah. That.

On one of the days an old friend got in touch.

A friend of hers who must have lived here once, was asking if someone on the IOW would have a spare five minutes to go to a particular church and check that her brother’s gravestone wasn’t all wild and overgrown.

The church happens to be a few minutes from my home, so my friend sent me a message to ask if I could check the stone for her friend. That evening, Reid and I went down there.

We took a pair of scissors and the flowers that we were given by the family that I did the floral initials for a few weeks ago.

We searched the graveyard 3 times looking for the man’s headstone.

On the third attempt, we found it.

It was the smallest one there.

And very close to the ground.

It turned out the gravestone wasn’t for a man.

It was for a little boy who had died very young.

We put down the flowers and used the scissors to trim the grass around the stone.

Then told our friend, who told her friend, who told her mother that the headstone was fine.

And who knows why, but it feels like an important story to tell on here.

So now it’s told.

* Summer house retreat thingy.

* Beautiful juices.

* The whopping May Flower Super Moon.

* The awesome, amazing human beings who have donated to the Go Fund Me page for Phea.

Phea is a friend from Cambodia. He was born in the same year as me, but grew up in the post Pol Pot era of Cambodia. Despite the atrocities that were faced by the people of that little country, Phea built his tour company from scratch. He is the coolest, warmest, funniest, most intelligent, soulful beauty whose face matches the smiling faces carved into the ancient Bayon at Angkor Wat.

I have a lot of love and time for him.

On returning home from Cambodia last November, I built Phea a little website to try and support his business. If you’d like to look, it’s here.

Right now,  due to Covid-19 Phea has lost his livelihood. He needs money to secure his bikes so that when the tourism in Cambodia kick-starts again, he’ll still have the business that supports his family and community. The Go Fund Me page kicked off a couple of days ago and we already have a third of our £3000 goal.

If you’re one of the lucky folk who have a few pounds to spare and you’re called to lock arms with Phea from afar, please have a look at the Go Fund Me page HERE and throw Phea a few pounds. Thank you.

 * My mum teaching me to save spiders.

* Having the parental brainwashing to save not 1 but 2 False Widow spider on the SAME DAY this week … and showing Reid how to capture them. And then showing him how to stick them in a hedge right down the road away from our house.

* Major blessing = my mum. In general.

* Getting an email from something I applied for prior to lockdown saying they need a filmed fitness test. Challenge is, I’ve been in LOCKDOWN baby!  And for some reason doing 44 press ups is beyond me. It feels like trying to do a moving plank with several fully grown, obese hippos strapped to my back.

Am still gonna try and hit the target and if not? Se la vie.

* Social media debates. Enough said.

* Suddenly noticing that all Reid ever wears is Arsenal kits. And that this has been advertised weekly on these Lockdown Weeks in Review. Oh dear.

For THAT email to arrive. To STOP hankering for that email to arrive.

To hit our target for Phea.

To work out a long-term life plan to go and live up a mountain in South East Asia.

Consistent early morning routine continuation.

To not have to save anymore False Widows.

To miraculously turn out 44 press-ups in one go and manage to capture it on film. Whilst appearing supremely indifferent to the near death experience it invokes.