1. We've run out of clothes for Alec -- again -- so I dress him up in a brand new outfit that the mother left for him for our walk up to the park. It just so happens that his reins co-ordinate, and he looks very smart. Preppy, my mother said, because of the red and navy and stone palette. Nick says he looks like a 1950s footballer, because his shorts are so baggy and because of the number on the back of his shirt. Whatever Alec looks like, he's very pleased about it and stomps along grinning at everyone, his eyes crinkled, chin tucked in and his head tilted back.
2. It's a bright day, but not too hot. I'm so pleased because Nick has been flipping to the weather forecast, anxious in case this year's cricket week is another wash-out. At least he's had one clear good day -- he comes home very satisfied with the day's play.
3. When Nick goes up to bath Alec, I am firm with myself. I ask: "Under what circumstances would you regret planting up those vegetables you've got waiting to go in pots and growbags?" I can't think of any, so I do the work. It doesn't take long at all.