100 words 088
I’m sat in just a pair of shorts at 9pm, waiting for the promised thunderstorms.
The Chef is putting some entries in Piglet’s memories book and has come across her baby hand and feet prints. She cracked with poignant sadness for the person her child no longer is. Cheered up when she remembered the first nappy change.
We’ve a week off in September for The Chef’s birthday and we’re spending the evening trying to find accommodation. We mistakingly thought that once the schools were back, it’d quiet down. We’ve already lost a few places we’d bookmarked. Pray for our holiday.
11 August 2020