Christmas compendium

We had Christmas at Aunt Jean's house. Above is the moment Milo got his first present from his first stocking: the story is already well-told, but let me return to it: the second present, a little rattle, filled his other hand, and when we came to present number three, a who-knows-what, he held up his arms to indicate plenitude, shook his head severely, and said no. No more presents for Milo, because two is quite enough. Ultimately, we forced the other presents upon him, because it was Christmas, and we'd bought lots and lots, and yet we knew, as we did so, that we were watching innocence spoil.

This, you might say, is après les déluges, or at the very least, in the middle of it.

Christmas is for sharing - be it with man or rabbit. Here, the delighted infant makes free with his pear and the delighted rabbit makes free with the generosity. 

The two adventurers discover the pear-thief's lair.

To quote Lou Costello: oh boy oh boy oh boy.

What a picture.

Putting the baby? Why no! Spinning the baby: the putt is merely a risk factor. 

Aunt Jean - Dzean, according to the one in the photograph above - lives in Wakefield, home to the new Hepworth gallery - and very charming it is too.

Very charming.

Both looking out...

...and looking in.

Though, naturally, the playground is the very best bit.

Post-Wakefield, my parents - with stolen glasses,

and nature classes.

No evil heard,

or seen. But an opportunity left open for its verbalisation...