With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept

So, one Sunday afternoon, I finally found myself with a period of free time long enough to actually contemplate what I should do with my free time...

And I remembered I used to do this old blogging thing.

Abigail is, as I type, eating her teddy bear and uttering one of the three syllables she has mastered. She can now crawl and will try to stand up at any given opportunity so I daren't look awa for too long. Children are like dreams of course, in that your own are only fascinating to yourself no matter how convinced you are of their unique spellbinding qualities, but I don't think I am overstating things when I say that we now have a brighter future as a species because of Abigail's existence.

Mrs Rolpol is out gallivanting, too shellshocked by the thought of her own free time to know what to do with herself but knowing instinctively that there used to be a big wide world out there and now is as good a time as any to see if it still survives.

And me? Well, the sad thing is I'm the proof that nothing ever really changes. Oh well, back to the nappies then...