Parents - they bring the sun

Milo giving Grandpa a tour of the sandpit.

This paddling pool comes in two configurations: underneath

And on top.

If I didn't say Babyzilla and the Trellick Tower, it'd be criminal.

This is in the Meanwhile Gardens this morning. We'd tried to go to Kew but the overground had let us down. A walk along the canal turned out to be even better.

The hills are alive with the sound of...

..."Why, Daddy?"
Twenty-two months is too young for existentialism. Also, the Tyrolian meadows answer every question.

Sorry, yes, it seems the hills were alive with the sound of music after all.

We stayed on this lake, in the sense that the hotel bordered it, not in the sense that we were in a house boat. You'll notice that it is a crystalline, tropical blue. Probably because of the mineral deposits, but I haven't checked this on wikipedia. 

Nowadays one can walk to the top of a mountain with Milo, and he'll help out with the map. To the lower right, the tree trunks and bark chippings make it appear that there was a playground at the top of this mountain. There wasn't, there was just some tree trunks and bark chippings. We were quite as surprised as you are.

We had to cross a number of snow fields (they were diminutive, so perhaps snow gardens is a better descriptor. But big gardens), this is underneath one of them. On one of the larger expanses, an Austrian man walked back to us to give me his nordic poles. He didn't like the thought of my slipping down the mountain with Milo on my back - I mean, really, who does?

Clare has just walked in and accused me of writing about 'what I did on my holidays'; well on my holidays I saw an adder and stuck my nose right up to it so I could take it's portrait. That's what I did on my holidays.

The day before my birthday, the mountain opposite our window looked like this.

And then on my birthday it looked like this. 

And then the day after, the sun came out again. It looks to me like Frau Perchta was having a joke at my expense.

He looks like a natural, but really he said, 'too scared, waterfall', and Clare and I had to take it in turns to walk up to the falls and keep him company at a safe distance.

Illustrating the above.

'I dabble.' The scorching sun continued its stay for the rest of our holiday. 'What I did on my holiday - got sunburnt, except on my birthday, when I got chillblains.'

Greetings from the Tyrol

Activities so far accounted for: pulled along in waggon buttercup in hand; boat ridden; mountain pass passed; swimming pool swum in, outside; bouncy castle bounced on; big (Thomas) tank engine run alongside of; pony gently walked.

Accidents so far logged: pony fallen off, after it trod on father's foot; mountain almost fallen down, after father gave too much credence to the strength of a "dead" branch; cheeks sunburnt.

Calculations calculated? Tyrols generally exceedingly good; fathers need to calibrate risk.

 

A lovely visit from Grandma and Grandpa

They're reading the Duplo catalogue. Milo read it again the next day. And the next. With great avidity. It's now in six discrete pieces.

I blummin' love sharks

But I like fire engines even more.

Fire/Truck

I honestly don't think he fits

Spring Break

When I was Milo's age, I walked (walked?) in these hills with my parents. Now, he's his age, and I'm my age, and my Dad took us back. Things have changed in thirty years: we used to park by a run-down allotment; now we parked by an allotment selling turkey eggs, and duck eggs (egg varietals went on) with decorative scarecrows. And still the geese remain. They scared me I'm sure, as an infant, and they scare Milo still. I think those decades ago we were able to get deeper into the moors, but Milo's of an agrarian bent - we had to stop when we reached the tractors and the farmer man. Here, I point out a tractor or a kestrel. Judging by the person on my shoulders, I'd say tractor. Judging by the person crouching behind the wall, I'd say kestrel.

This one, there's no doubt: a tractor, and we're getting close.

Somehow, I knew one day I'd walk in* the moors with my son. I never knew it would be like this. It's as good as it looks. Better, even. Better than it looks and I thought it would be.

*Towards. One day we'll walk in them.

Milo loves cats. Some of them are generous enough to tolerate it for a moment or two.

And the photo from that moment or two later? Ears back, chin down, eyes asquint. Thought bubble formed that quoth, "just you kiss me again, sonny-boy. Just try it one more time, that's all I ask. And one of us will die happy."

James came to dinner, and we played in the garden.

Evening light, expanses of glass, branches just tinged with green. Blummin' haloes.

These next two photographs are on other days. Milo spent an hour chasing around that lawn - here is a moment with (a) everyone and (b) him standing still. Other moments included butterflies. Feathers. Sticks. Jumping. Tumbling. His first forward roll. My first in fifteen years.

And then today Jean came. It is a good thing to have an aunt, I think.

Beeches

"Turn left, Daddy"

Spring Flowers

Couple'a nice smiles