With Auntie Janine and our pals we decided to go fishing for tadpoles in the pond at the bottom of the garden. Topped and tailed with hats and wellies and armed with our buckets and nets, we set out to look for these tiny beasties which, they tell me, eventually turn into frogs.
To catch these fantastic critters we had to prepare our nets during the winter months: by finding a strong stick in the woods, then keeping the string bags from the oranges that mummy bought, and assembling the two with great care.
Flat out on our tummies by the edge of the pond we had fun together splashing about under Auntie Janine’s watchful eye. Some of us were more adept than others at catching tadpoles. The sun warmed our backs, and above all lit up the clear water. Suddenly, I could scarcely believe my eyes, I saw a sunken treasure sparkling in the depths.
I stretched out, everyone rushed to help me and I finally managed to grab hold of it. This is my treasure and I’m going to be able to give it to mummy on Mother’s Day, tomorrow, I shouted.
“It’s a bottle of wine” Auntie Janine told me, “and it’s full!”
I look at it, turning it in every direction. It’s attached to a string, tied to a branch. Oh the deception! It’s not treasure after all but a bottle put there by the vineyard workers to keep it cool for their midday break.
“We are going to taste it now!” say my friends excitedly. I hesitate, Auntie disapproves … and in any case we haven’t got a corkscrew.
Oh well. At least we still have the tadpoles to look at. We can’t wait to see them turn into frogs.