I'm off

Bess: 'Right you two. I've made your bottles. There's food in the fridge. I'll see you when I get back...

...I'm serious. You're gonna have to take care of yourselves from now on. I've got hills to climb...'

Park romance

Today Bess met Reiss at the park. Impressed with his leather jacket
and Nike Air Max (or rather mini), the boys had better watch out for
this new kid on the blog. Bruiser.

L-plates

Banana pop

The new best thing

Sky ride

Super duper cycle sponsors Sky, have launched an annual free cycle around London. Cars are diverted away from the route which this year extended along the north of the river between St James' park and St Pauls Cathedral thereabouts.

Open to all on two wheels (inc tricycles, unicycles etc) the streets were packed tyre to tyre when we arrived at Parliament Square. A bit too busy to be a fluid stream of biking joy, we stopped and started around the St James', past Buck P and back to Whitehall. Here the clump thinned out and we had a smooth passage to the river and along the embankment. Chocking up again at St Pauls we ducked out at about Southwark bridge and made for home just before the heavens opened.

It was absolutely wonderful to be flying through London with the smallest bear, wind in her mess of hair and the buzz of the capital all about. Highly recommend.

Mike: 'If you see her you have to say it like this, hew doo yoo doo.'

Bank Holiday: Whitstable

MTD, Steph and Morse rocked up to meet us at Whitstable for bank holiday windswept seaside fun. We showed Bess the brown sea, devoured the best fish and chips ever on the sea wall, walked as far as the Isle of Sheppey then made a hasty retreat back, watched Morse rocket across the beach between the groins (he's that kind of dog), and finally queued for some excellent ice cream before zipping back to London just a smidge before every other day tripper hit the road. Perfect.

Bicycle Bess

Mike's dream comes true and Bess gets wheels.

Albert and Elsa visit

Albert and Elsa and their parents came to stay at the end of July - forgive the date messing.

Alarm calls took on a different spin with the arrival of the young Lambs.

Elsa: 'Roar, wake up.'

Elsa as a strawberry

up the Anglia

End of August. Must fit in another wedding.

John and Linda get married in Cambridge which means a jolly for us, and a day and night with Uncle Jonathan, Aunty Barbara and Joe and Hollie for Bess.

John and Linda

Tears poured down my cheeks as the string quartet played on. The lady on the right was struggling to keep her violin from disappearing under her chins. Naughty.

Tired Dad

Punts

The get-along gang

The next day the adults tag teamed and off went the Howes parents Norwich branch to another wedding. We took charge and headed to the nudey pool for more fun.

Followed by a minute of gardening in the sun with Mags

Mid July to Mid August

Back to work for mother for a period of obligatory service in the charity sector.

I suspect much like a drug, I have been reintroduced to the highs of adult work and the exciting speed of business, but, followed by crashing lows of being a part-timer. Compared to getting a toddler to eat their breakfast, even the sluggish pace of Breast Cancer Care fundraising is positively light speed. But then comes the annoying stuff. I'm sure this is normal.

To take the edge off this, Mike and I took ourselves out for some well pukka nosh yeah at Jamie Oliver's Fifteen to celebrate 2 years of marriage. Fifteen is a concept restaurant where a proportion of staff are young and struggling with drink, drug, social nightmare pasts and presents. St Jamie is responsible for the opportunity to turn their situation around - which is nice - by providing them with chef apprenticeships designed to get them into solid work.

Sadly the meal was disappointing. But we did see Jamie's scooter* parked outside which made up for it all.

* Not necessarily Jamie Oliver's scooter

Back to Lyon and homeward bound

Hurrah!! - shouts Mike, as he races up the autoroute to see Bob and get measured for his bike.

I quote, on his return from Bob's house, 'this is the best day of my life!'

Birthday bissous for Pierrette and more birthday cake

Baby arrives for Bess. Little does she know that she'll have a real one to contend with next year.

It was another whistle stop visit to Lyon going in the other direction but the perfect way to top and tail a really wonderful holiday.

J'adore la France. Vivre la France!

Cannes. The Elder wedding

Get your bucket and spade - let's hit the beach!

Emma and Yoshimi (Elliot) provide the perfect lounge spot.

The big day. Bess and Mike measuring up to the Riviera Chic dress code.

Glamorous ladies

Bess slickly removes her Ray Bans

The very glamorous Mr and Mrs Elder

Mai, Tim, Kelly, Will. Chic.

My family and other animals

An uninvited guest in our bedroom curtain.

We were told that they are harmless and very common. We have no idea how many Bess may have eaten as she made her way around the floor of the Garden House. It's our hope that they might be as nutritious as they are apparently safe.

June 28 and Bess is 1 year old.

The day started early as we got up to wish Mike a safe ride as he took on the Ventoux. From her umpire's chair and armed with her starting pistol, Bess ok'd the contestants, correction, contestant, and he was off.

While the mountains were sweating, Bess and I made for the town. Bedoin market provided us with a small cake and as many french shoppers as you could wave a baguette at.

Back at HQ, captain cleat was back and so we embarked on celebrating. I'd remembered to bring a candle. The reaction was impressive.

Bess: 'Huh, no more??!...'

We found Bess a Ferme Savante. An immediate hit and ensured the local population were treated to our farm impressions for the following 2 days.

Balloon fun

This was the most relaxed of holidays; we all hit a bliss state almost instantly. Easy playing in the sun; great cooking; swimming and sun lounging in shifts; an absence of all telecoms; endless naps (sun drenched baby) and beautiful surrounds.

We felt very at home in the hills. But wedding bells were chiming, so onwards to Cannes.