Tidy

We've had another happy day of pootling around, recharging our batteries and enjoying our special family time, but with not many photos taken other than phone shots of the Boy Wonder and the Baby Brother. Luckily, while I was taking a pre-dinner walk in the nature reserve attached to the estate, this little Robin paused to pose on one of the fence posts of the beaver enclosure, and offered me what you might call a sitter to illustrate today's post. Although the background is messy, the Robin itself is rather smart - which is far from a given at this time of year - and as it's clearly not a juvenile, and August seems a little early for it to have completed its moult, I can only think that it must be a non-breeding adult.

I've been especially charmed today by some of the antics of B minor, who at eighteen months is desperate to be able to talk, and as well as trying out his limited repertoire of words at every possible opportunity - beaming with pleasure if they land well - now echoes as far as he can the things he hears other people say. And despite the fact that he's not yet great at consonants this can work surprisingly well, because he has a good ear for rhythm and inflection - so when he hands you something and brightly says "Eer-you-oh!" , you know exactly what he means, and how to respond. As we set off for the swimming pool this afternoon, his Daddy swung the Brother up onto his shoulders, where he bounced up and down with great enthusiasm and said "Less-OH!", which had me in tucks. 

At the pool, the Brother's charming smile and utter fearlessness - standing on the side, saying something on the lines of "Uh, dee, fu, or, JUH!" and hurling himself off the edge into the water (and with luck, the waiting arms of a parent) has all the other ladies of a certain age queuing up to join his fan club. However, when something displeases him, his brow immediately descends in a ferocious scowl and his lips purse, at which point distraction techniques need to be employed fast, to avert a seismic strop. This afternoon, noticing him turning the Paddington Hard Stare on his mother, one of the fans observed, "Future Prime Minister, I think," and looking at the combination of white blonde mop, portliness, and scowl, I could see exactly who was in her mind. I have to say though that when B minor delivers the word "No", it emerges in a lengthy diphthong - "Nyeeohhw" - that sounds a great deal more like the late Queen than the Architect of Brexit. For obvious reasons I'd be happier for him to use Her Maj as a role model than BoJo, but if he's going to nail the impersonation I fear that the "Never complain" bit of her philosophy is going to need a bit of work.