There's a particular kind of magic in a phone screen. I live rather a long way from home these days, which means most of my grandchildren's growing up happens for me in small, glowing rectangles, a wave here, a wobbly tooth held up for inspection there, someone's cat wandering across the shot uninvited.

It was on one of those calls that the idea for this page came about. I'd been telling one of my stories, the kind I make up on the spot and can never quite remember afterwards, and a small voice on the other end of the line said, quite firmly, that I ought to write them down. So that they could read them whenever they liked. Not just when Grandad happened to be free and the wifi behaved itself.

I thought that was rather a good idea. Better than most of mine, if I'm honest.

So: 'The Hedge Family' exists because a few small people, aged roughly six and under, said it should. I won't be naming them here, they're a bit young for that sort of thing, and some things are best kept just for family, but they know who they are, and they know this was their idea. I hope that's enough of a credit for now. I owe them rather more than that.
 

What you’ll find here are stories, poems and songs written in that same spirit, the sort meant to be read aloud, or half-acted-out, or interrupted every few lines with a question about whether the hedgehog in the story is a good hedgehog.

The pages are easy to follow and full of fun. They’re for my own small grandchildren first. But if any other small person, or the grown-up reading to them, finds something to enjoy here too, then so much the better.​​

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