Tuesday, April 15, 2014

Extra jam, womankind and water.

1. I notice Alec slipping extra jam into the dimples on his tray of jammy thumbprint biscuits.

2. Alec tries to scramble up the bank to talk to a small girl playing on the terrace above us. She has been  accidentally on purpose dropping her ball down to us. Alec falls over. And gets up for another go. He has to lie on his front and wave his short-trousered legs around to get over the top, but he is not deterred. She is bemused by his gift of leaves -- but her mother and I make melty faces at each other.

3. It's a warm day so I set out in the garden a tub of water. I issue some interesting containers and a few threats about there being no more water if he tips it all out in one go. I imagine Alec will spend a happy half hour (no, let's be realistic, ten minutes, tops before he gets bored) pouring water in and out, learning about volume and improving his motor skills.
"Can I put my feet in?"
"Hmmm?"
When I look up again he is naked and sitting in the tub, which now contains about two inches of very muddy water. It does keep him busy for half an hour, though.

Coffee, right there and advent calendar.

1. The coffee this morning is very tasty. There is no particular reason that we can discern. Perhaps we were just ready for it, and our bisc...