How Childish

"Don't be so childish!" or "Stop behaving like a bunch of kids!" are terms often heard to describe unruly adults! Yet the Good Book says that unless we are like children, we will not enter the Kingdom of Heaven!

I have had a pretty childish Spring, so far. The annual Enid Blyton Society Day saw Jane and I hot-footing across to Berkshire. Old and new friends were greeted, and a good time was had by all. We were treated to talks, readings, videos as well as the ability to peruse a gigantic sale of Enid's books. This was rounded off with a picnic; sandwiches, cakes and lashings of ginger beer. How childish!

So what is so great about being childish? Does it depend on the type of childhood you had? I think it might do. My childhood was wonderful - when I wasn't at school, that is! My first seven years were spent in a suburb of Salisbury, West Harnham -- pretty much a village back in the fifties. We lived next to a river and had fields to the back of us. This was -- and still is today -- my Peterswood. Lady Candling's house, Goon's police house, the Dairy, the Burnt Cottage, the Boathouse; they are all firmly etched in my memory as being here.

Being a child is so comforting -- especially when ill. I had mumps when I was about 8, as did my older brother. In those days, you were kept in bed with most illnesses. We shared a bedroom and had a wonderful time; an attentive mother, a huge valve wireless and a bowl of fruit kept us happy and entertained. .The latest Famous Five was the icing on the cake!

Long school holidays, hot summer days with the sky as blue as cornflower, crickets rubbing their legs together in the long grass.....

Halcyon Days. Ah well, one day it'll be time for me to grow up!