Too many mince pies

Father Christmas is not the only one who should be careful of tight chimneys.

30 weeks yesterday. Yikes.

Advent preparations

Bess is the proud owner of this gorgeous advent box calendar; a gift from Mr and Mrs Neish, Tom's parents. We love it; vintage loveliness.

December 1 brought a special gift from Japan.

An oversized spotty hair clip for the ever obscuring fringe.

Discovered in October, purchased in November and patiently awaited until December. Chambourcy the rocking moose!

Mike: 'Ratchet....rat-chet.....raaat--chett.'

Bess: 'Phillips or flat, father?'

Bess is in charge of the screws bag.

Yippeeee!

The Stockwell Illumination.

I'd like to point out that Bess strung these around her neck herself.

Christmas is definitely on the way with the arrival of our tree. The mice are out aswell.

Sunflower Seeds - Ai Weiwei

The Tate Turbine Hall gets another visit.

I was a bit gungho to say, 'oh yeah just another example of 'multiples' in their millions - only made impressive by their sheer volume', before I knew that every single one of over a hundred million sunflower seeds laid here at The Tate is a hand carved ceramic that was then hand painted by Ai and his workshop of oompas.

Stats like that put my 140 white leatherette mice in the shade.

View left.

View right.

Bess; thought provoked.

Gracie Cull literally fell from the sky like a vision in pink to join in the critique.

Pianissimo

Haven't quite got the knack that its for fingers not toes.

Cheeky dollop.

Hat

Getting a hat to stay on her head is near impossible but for some reason on Saturday it stayed the course, and indoors too.

Dollop.

Autumn in Grafton Square

The Austrian Princess as her father has taken to calling her in her new duffle. That or Del Boy...

Kick kick rustle kick rustle rustle kick rustle kick kick rustle

The bumble bee wellies get an outing too.

Dink.

Bess gets a kiki

Yes its all wrong; kiki and a NCFC sleep suit with the feet cut off. Sometimes you just have to go with what you've got.

Farmer's market to fireworks

Good bread from the Old Post Office Bakery brings floury joy to the house on Saturday.

Why hold up your baguette when you can balance it on its end and nibble at the other?

On to the Howes Carlshalton branch for freebie fireworks courtesy of the Masons of Stanley Park. In the region of £50k on this display; recommended. All the better with Jo's parsnip soup, fancified baked potatoes and a hot toddler to keep you warm.

Bang

Cheese

Whizz bang pop

Snowsurf

A new game brings endless hours of inexpensive fun. But potentially expensive visits to an osteopath for Daddy.

A spooky woooooooohhhhh

Halloween weekend. Back to Norville for Mike and Bess while I finish my work at BCC. The 9.30pm from Liverpool Street was a bit like a ghost train. I sat opposite an impossibly tall woman who looked harrowed and talked to her phone for half the journey about her visit to a pshychotherapist. It was impossible to tell if there was someone on the other side.... suiting the mood of the weekend perhaps.

Bess hung out with Grandad and Lyn and Lyn's mum, Doreen, before we all headed to Buxton to see the Walshes for a night in the Jackson (5) house.

Driving en route through Felthorpe, we chanced upon a 'squash stop' where a specimen was just 50p a pop. So we took one 'S' and one 'XS' for Bess's inaugural pumpkin scoop off. Splashing out hey.

The results. One happy and one sad pumpkin pal for les enfants.

Madeleine wanted and insisted that she wanted a sad pumpkin.

Fortunately her camera grin off-set this melancholy.

Good work ladies.

Bess: 'Hi-5 me sister'

Later.

Ding dong the witch is dead. I'm charmed as you can see.

Also massive in stripes.

Rumble in the jungle

As reported today, it's hunting season and its not just great big stags that are in danger.

The lesser spotted saber toothed lion had better watch it too.

Checked Japanese monkeys are easy prey too...

Bess: 'Hiii-yahhh!....'

Then kiss and make up

Pick and mix

Today's update (of admittedly random pictures) is brought to you in association with the inch that Bess has grown in the last month. Huh?!

...as depicted in our first photo of the 'height wall' and to be followed with some of the things she and we have been up to in this space. Hazaar.

Bess started September dressed as a American slot machine player, chewing tobacco and practicing her one arm bandit action.

Bess: 'Joist oine moire doim, joist oine moire doim mister'

She spent some time working out how the people in the TV got so flat.

Other bounds of reality being investigated include the phenomena of the Christmas elf.

How they got a crack in the turbine hall...also the biggest room ever.

Our dear fishy friends at the South Lambeth Road surgery were coping with being one man down, expressed eloquently by their care givers on reception.

Fish to left, sunken. Fish to right, swimming.

George hit the big ONE 1! And celebrated with amazing cakes.

Mike eyes up those cakes. Bess considers the disproportion of gifts.

Daddy Day Care came in to full effect as I went back to work for a very long and intensive two weeks. Mike benefits from the handover by instructing Bess on producing quality mac visuals.

Grandad and Lyn got married!

My beautiful set. No more Shows though now. For now.

21.4 weeks and only one person in the world knows the sex of baby no. two - Che Che, today's sonographer (NB and post script, not a panda). She knows the secret. Its likely to be a boy or a girl. But judging by the profile he is in his father's image...we reckon.