I don’t usually ‘heart’ things; I prefer to use the old-fashioned ‘love’. I know it basically means the same thing, I suppose ‘hearting’ something is slightly more modern, more youthful. So, in an attempt to bring myself into the modern era, to be more with it, on trend, down with the kids etc etc, I’m going to take the plunge and boldly go where everyone else seems to be going and say: I heart emma.
Now I don’t just heart any old emma, no no, this is a very special kind of emma. This emma I share a lot of special times with; this emma I share a lot of thoughts with, tears, laughter, cuddles and cupcakes with. This emma usually kick starts my day and winds down my night. This emma is a bridgewater emma.
Family crabb all have a little bit of bridgewater in their life: baby crabb is exposed to the world of mini bridgewater on a ‘look but (definitely) don’t touch’ bases; daddy crabb’s bridgewater collection is inspired by his ‘when I retire I’m going to have a labrador and spaniel’ dream and mummy crabb has filled her collection with flowers so when she opens her cupboard it feels like the flower fairies have been and surprised her with a bunch of springtime. Emma makes a cup of dreams.