Fresh air

Fresh air

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“Well, this is nice,” said R, as we sat in the car at traffic lights, watching rain playing along the river in bursts, as if from cosmic hoses. “It is indeed,” I replied. “I can’t think of anything I’d rather spend an afternoon doing than trying to take an interesting photo of Evesham in the rain.”

Nonetheless I grabbed my gear and leapt out, and while R went to park the car and get the coffees in I scuttled through the Workman Gardens and then up and over the bridge and into Abbey Park, where I spotted this scene. It reminded me of various occasions when the Offspring were small, when the necessity to get them out of the house for an hour to work off some steam overwhelmed any misgivings about the weather; luckily although we lived in London at the time we were only a few yards from a nice park, and if you remove the phone (and the third child) from the scene this could easily have been us. I’d rate Mum’s multi-tasking level here as Expert, by the way: moments after this the little chap overbalanced in the direction of the rail, and her hand shot out to steady him like that of a Jedi Master.

I’m still rather pink about the ears from reading all the thoroughly lovely comments that were left on yesterday’s kiloBlip – I’m so very grateful for all of your congratulations and compliments, as well as for the stars and hearts that have put that post on the first row of Pops.

Thank you!