10/08/2010 15:45 BST | Updated 22/05/2015 10:12 BST

Achtung Baby Or Swing Baby Swing

One of the motives behind our move from the beautiful city of Hamburg into the countryside was in order to have (read:afford) a house with a garden. I'm a country girl at heart and proud of it. No regrets. Not a single one. Well, apart from the fact that I sometimes experience a craving for an Indian takeaway that cannot be controlled! Reactions from our city dwelling friends are mixed. Most enjoy the peace and quiet periodically but couldn't manage longer than a weekend without going stir crazy.

'Tis true though, if your wellies are any other colo ur than wellie-green you are considered extravagant. Getting dressed up means wearing something that doesn't show the cat/dog/horse hairs and many of the women here think a leg wax is something you do with the nether regions of the dining room table. But I do feel at home so make of that what you will.

More importantly, having escaped the confines of our tiny flat, Finje is thriving. As the weather warms, the garden is her playground. If you looked up Finje Nowak in the dictionary the definition would be "A noise with soil on it!" She runs around like a dimpled lunatic digging, swinging and demonstrating the point that the prime purpose of being four is to enjoy being four. Of secondary importance is the preparation for being five.

Quite right too.The swings are the hit. Fortunately for us the previous owners had three children and they kindly left the swing set for us. Or maybe they forgot it. It is made of wood, has a traditional sit-down-swing and a single knotted rope. Unfortunately when we inherited it it was rather past its best. Finje couldn't wait though and launched herself at it immediately. A rather alarming splintering sound followed that took about six months off my life expectancy and the child was duly removed. Further inspection revealed worrying looking fissures in the supporting wood. Of course it took he diplomatic skills of Kofi Annan to dissuade Finje from further perilous swiging action until we had fixed it. She decided to play inside in protest.

After half an hour or so her room resembled Kristallnacht.

The swing frame has now been duly fixed and Finje swings. A lot. Not wanting any other living creature to miss out on the fun, the worms also swing, as do the snails, the woodlice, and the cat (but not for long!).

Now she wants a trampoline.

That will not be happening.