Wendy’s Workshop
It was a lovely bright day at Barham Lake. The clear water sparkled in the sunlight. Here and there, a sudden plop showed the presence of a fish jumping to catch a fly.
As my husband Russell and I unpacked the picnic basket, Josie, our six-year-old daughter, pointed across to a bank of reeds on our left. ‘Oh, look, a butterfly.’
A beautiful creature with iridescent greenish wings fluttered above the reeds.
‘That’s a damselfly,’ Russell said. ‘It’s really a dragonfly. You can see a lot of them round water at this time of year.’
‘Hmm, it doesn’t look like a dragon,’ said Josie. ‘I like it better as a damselfly.’
I unpacked the picnic basket carefully – sandwiches, crisps, bananas, white wine for us and tea for Josie.
I had packed Josie’s special cup and saucer, a souvenir brought back from Brittany. The design was of a woman dressed in traditional costume. Josie loved it.
‘It wasn’t my fault,’ he murmured
When the picnic was over, Josie handed her cup
