It is high summer here, and high time I wrote another Small Things post.

I am doing Beth Kempton’s Summer Writing Sanctuary* next week. In her warm-up exercises, she asks, “What does summer mean to you?” I found myself writing about freedom: freedom from routine; freedom to drive off to different places or swim in the sea; freedom to stay up late or have slow mornings with books and coffee. Freedom to wear what I want, and, by and large, to do what I want. There is also the precious freedom of unhurried time with my children.

Of course, the reality is that I am only so free. I still have responsibilities and stresses. Nevertheless, my days are more open-ended and, even if I am staying at home, they are full of possibility. Time in the summer is still finite, and it still has the tendency to run away with me, or run out. But it also feels more fluid, less marked out and boxed in than it is at other times of year.

And I have had some beautiful tastes of freedom this summer. On Tuesday, I swam in the sea at Perranporth. The water was like a postcard: clear, turquoise, shimmering. The beach was packed with people sat on colourful towels, pop-up tents, kids hurtling along on skim-boards, dogs panting in the heat. When I reached the water, there were lots of wave-jumpers and paddlers, bodyboarders, shriekers… I felt the initial cold of the water around my tummy, then threw myself into a wave. I swam out past the clusters of people and floated and let the saltwater hold me. I looked out at the blue horizon and the huge Atlantic. If ever time stands still, it is in the sea.

A few days previously, I had had a completely different taste of freedom, when I drove my mother-in-law and daughter to see Irish dancing in Torquay (Michael Flatley’s Lord of the Dance tour). We all loved the energy and musicality of the show and were swept away by it. It charmed us, and left a lasting impression.

The other lovely thing about summer is the gathering – or rather, gatherings. Summer allows us to bring together the people we love, and often brings back to us people who have moved away or live elsewhere. Over the past few weeks, we have had a few great gatherings with friends and family.

Back in June and July, we celebrated two of my grandparents’ birthdays with extended family. It was a lot of fun to get together across the generations and spend time together.

This week, we invited friends to our place to watch the partial solar eclipse. We were all fascinated by the phenomenon, but it was also just great to be together. It was all pretty casual and last minute: a load of jacket potatoes and salad on the table, and children and adults spread out everywhere outside, dragging chairs into shady spots, kicking balls around and hurtling down the track on the go-kart. It felt good.

And then there was the gathering we had last week with my husband’s family. That one was particularly special, as we have been talking about it ever since Andrew’s dad got out of the ICU, after missing Christmas and birthdays earlier in the year. To have him there, and surrounded by all the family, was a gift.

There has, of course, been plenty of the mundane to continue on with: cleaning and dentist appointments and so on. And, as I have written before, we as a family do need a lot of time at home, a lot of quiet. It can sometimes feel a little boring or restricted. I try to accept that this is part of life, to allow myself to feel those negative feelings, and also to be grateful for the stability we have.

This is where the habit of looking for Small Things can really, really help. Because, even on the days when I have to pick up the kids’ snack wrappers an inordinate amount of times, or hoover the same bit of carpet more than once, or step over toys to get to the over-filled sink, there are still small things to celebrate.

A few of mine this week:

• Our animals. Earlier this week, the gecko literally ran to the glass to see me, and it made me smile (even though I knew he was probably just hungry).
• Sweet, fresh strawberries and blueberries.
• Tea in the garden with my parents.
• Watching buzzards fly overhead.
• Putting my feet in the children’s paddling pool.
• Getting messages from people who are reading my book.**
• The sunflower bouquet I bought for my mother-in-law.
• My daughter spotting herself in one of my poems and loving it.

*If you love to write, or just want to try it, I can recommend Beth Kempton’s courses. I loved her winter writing sanctuary so am hoping to enjoy the summer one just as much. Both of them are offered for free, which feels rare and generous.

** If you like my writing, do give my book a try. You can find it here, on Amazon.