That’s enough of all that. I had a lovely non-grumpy weekend which included baby-sitting my younger grandson for the evening. (If he was reading this I’d have to call it “big-boy sitting.”) Bliss is sitting by a warm fire listening to cheesy Christmas music, knitting my fair-isle hoodie, with my G in his fireman’s dressing gown drawing beautiful pictures of trains.

And in the morning, going with him and his parents for a bacon sarnie and a cuppa at a quirky, sun-drenched 60’s caff with a jukebox and formica topped tables.
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