In Brief:
1. The thing about adventures is that they’re always more fun once you’ve been successfully rescued from them.
2. And the thing about 2 year olds is that they simply never cease to surprise you.
3. And the thing about 3 week holidays in England in the Winter is that, when you return to sunny Sydney in Summer, you need some URGENT maintenance work. Bodily ghastlinesses which can be ignored when said bod is swaddled in 47 layers of wool and tweed for fear of frostbite, are suddenly horrifyingly visible again.
4. I love the French. Just love them. They’re stark, staring bonkers.
~~~
To Elaborate:
1. So, you heard that the UK had an unusual amount of snow, right? And that, of course, the entire ruddy country ground to a halt as a result? Amid media-stoked panic-buying of milk and bread supplies, local councils reportedly ran out of grit to treat the roads and schools were closed across the country…thereby ensuring that many of those people who could have made it into work, despite the weather, nonetheless had to stay at home and look after the kids instead.
And then I did something really rather stupid.
I decided to drive from Wiltshire to Herefordshire, to see my darling friend Piereth. In a Toyota Aygo. Without snow-chains. Following the iPhone’s Google maps sat nav system which, quite obviously once one stops to consider it, didn’t know which roads were treated and thus relatively safe and which were, frankly, winding, hilly Ice-Rinks Of Death.
So, yes, I got stuck, after a 4 hour drive, less than 10 miles from Piereth’s home. But with no mobile signal, so no way of letting her know that I wasn’t dead in a (snow-filled) ditch.
Luckily, I was rescued from the consequences of my own folly by a passing management consultant called Phil, carrying a shovel.
[In future, never let it be said that Management Consultancy is bollocks]
2. My niece is amazing. I know, I know, all 2 year olds are amazing. But, like, she is properly amazing. And cute as a button.
“Are you alright Auntie Woo?”
“Yes you may read me a story, Auntie Woo.”
Here are some photos to warm the cockles of your heart and as soon as I figure out how to upload my .MOV file there will be video footage of Beatrice’s Goodbye Dance, too:

Yup, she loves raw brussels sprouts. Can’t imagine why, I can’t abide ‘em. She also loves olives, edamame beans, broccoli and ‘pudding’. Though not necessarily in that order…

Evidence of the latest iPhone app which stops two-year-old temper tantrums in their tracks. Step 1: retrieve iPhone from bag. Step 2: point the camera in direction of screaming toddler. Step 3: Shrieking fit almost instantaneously becomes photo pose, followed by checking of pics of self on handset. Repeat as necessary.

She’s not allowed to watch TV (except for one DVD of The Snowman), but she’s already getting the hang of ‘checking Daddy’s me-mails’.

That’s the view from the front gate of the Wiltshire village where my brother and his family live, on the first morning of the snow. Rather pretty. We made the most of it…

…and created a snowman, complete with trilby, satsuma nose and pieces of coal for his eyes and buttons.
3. I’m not even going into detail on this one.
4. This was one of the pages in a book belonging to my niece. Roughly translated, it reads: “On the pavement, you find all sorts! Overflowing rubbish bins, dog poo.”

I know, gotta love those crazy cheese-eating surrender-monkeys and their attitude to childhood, right? No saccharine floppy-eared bunny-wabbits wittering about how much they love each other for les Français, oh non. Dog poo.