Joy is…a seaside treasure hunt!

I’ve never been the most hands-on, crafty person. But sometimes inspiration strikes, and I try my hand at something beyond writing, doodling, and prolific biscuit dipping.

Such was the occasion when Sharni and Johnny suggested we go fossicking at the beach and spend an afternoon crafting with our found delights.

Ignoring the gale-force winds that always seem to lie in wait the moment I step on sand, my joyful friends scampered ahead with carefree abandon while I trudged behind like I was on day four of an arctic expedition.

Sharni had made sure we all had bags to contain our seashore treasures. While I was still wrestling with the wind to open mine, Johnny had already half-filled his with twigs and sea sponge. He threw his little arms up in delight when he spotted something else in the sand. Shells. Lots of them.

Sharni squealed and ran to join him as they all but nosedived into the crunchy pile. Clearly they’d discovered seashell heaven, and they began sorting like expert conchologists curating the world’s finest shell collection.

Each shell they found was apparently more beautiful than the last. Occasionally, though, one fell short - those rejects were either discarded with dramatic flair or handed to me with a little shrug, as though I’d be desperate enough to accept sea scraps. Of course, I was. It saved me having to bend down in the sand, so I gratefully snaffled them up.

Soon our bags were bulging, and after patting more than a few friendly dogs, we headed for home.

I’ll spare you the details, but let’s just say there was a hot glue gun and a lot of joyful chaos. Many shells were glued to sticks and fashioned into quirky (and sometimes useful) things, but plenty were left unused.

It was agreed we’d return them to the beach. But we might want to be quick - or take the kite - said Sharni. The wind, apparently, was picking up.

-  Sam