Algid skies have enveloped this typically limpid spring Bank Holiday, and Emily has decided to hybernate. Perhaps she is still recouperating after chasing Cat round the garden on Sunday. Emily has adeptly trained my niece in the art of playing tag with a headless rubber duck. Cat has yet to accept that she cannot ever hope to win. Two human feet in competition with four nimble Jack Russell paws haven't a hope in Hades.
Ygraine determinedly kept out of it, being perfectly content to snooze under the St John's wort. Only the enticing scents of a roasting chicken, wafting graciously through the open kitchen window, kept her from sliding completely into dreamy oblivion. And Emily? Well, the photo tells that story.