Rubber bucket

I was two years old, it was my very first holiday at the seaside and my parents bought me a rubber bucket. It was white and had different bright colours streaking through it and it smelled similar to balloons - I fell in love with it. It was the second most wonderful thing next to my teddy bear. It sat clenched in my hand, all day - I didn't want to watch anyone use it to make sandcastles - I could make sandcastles. My sandcastles were half-sized, lop-sided with corners missing out of them - but they were made with my rubber bucket and I thought they were wonderful.

One day after just walking down onto the beach, bucket in hand - I strolled towards a group of children playing in what I thought was a sand puddle. One of those puddles of sea water that remains when the tide goes out and the beach is one of those wet, wrinkly ones. I held on tightly to my bucket and began to splash in the would be puddle . . . and disappeared out of sight. The puddle was a large hole, full of sea water, and I fell to the bottom of it. I twirled upside down and every part of me got to the surface with the exception of my head. I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of water. I heard my father shouting for me to let go of the bucket - but I wasn't going to let go, I didn't want to lose it. Eventually, and by this time my father had just about reached the puddle . . . I managed to gasp my first breath . . . and was hauled out still holding my precious bucket.

Even today, I remain with stubborn determination and it has probably helped me conquer many new, challenging and exciting skills. I also have an endless well of patience - both of these are due, I think, to my rubber bucket!

Above is the most friendly of the garden frogs. The stone that he is sitting on covers the pond filter. He was gently taken off the stone, placed onto another stone whilst this stone was lifted and the filter cleaned. Not a croak did he make as he was gently placed back onto the stone when the job was completed. He still didn't move and I had chance to go back into the house and get the camera . . . and he was there, almost dry, still sitting on the stone!