In my parent's garden

Large (I do love this of Callum. It reminds me of the happiness so often felt in the garden thanks to Mum and Dad).

Back from Bournemouth and the days are spent idly swinging away in the rocker of my parent's lush and labour-of-love garden.

The weather is beautiful, hot, sunny and stays with us long into the evening. The boys are in love with the garden, Reuben mostly hanging out on the gravel where the heavily-scented lavender, awash with busy summer bumble bees spills over the step to make it unaccessible, save running the gauntlet through the bees. We shouldn't worry: they are far sweeter things in their sights than us. Callum plays with the pull along train, asks for water from the hose pipe and generally the boys are poured over with love and affection from Mum and Dad all day.

My sister Geraldine and Mark come over this evening and we enjoy a good ole English feast of Indian curry, downed heartily with wine and cider. (I must add that Dad gave Mum and I a glass of cider at lunchtime and I still feel the effects this evening, rather lovely!).