22 May 2012

Bluebells and apocalyptic survival skills

PA was working last weekend, so Mister G and I took a trip out of town to visit my parents. G was introduced to the wonders of petit filous and my parents laughed hard at my attempts to minimise mess at mealtimes. I was always a pretty fastidious child and my Dad in particular finds it amusing to see me smiling through the gunk.

Transformations.


I came back with a clutch of rhubarb which became crumble and carrier bags full of parsley for the freezer.  I wish I had my parents' green thumbs. And a garden. That too.

We took our annual pilgrimage up to see the bluebells on the village heath.  I insisted upon plonking Mister G down in the middle of them for just the sort of embarrassing photo op that I was party to as a child. And so the cycle continues.

Showing off the mad new sitting skills


And the mad cool digging-and-eating skills (which will stand him in good stead for the apocalypse, right?)
When I picked him up we had to pry the bulbs from his tiny, grubby fist. That's my boy.

boy, grandpa

boy in tree

Magic.

Love.
all pics from my phone

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