8 weeks old.

And we were back in the hospital today, this time visiting Grandad. On Wednesday last week we were all set for an outing in London when my Dad tripped and fell near our local station. I wasn't with him at the time - he picked himself up, climbed up the stairs at the back of the station, crossed over the railway line and came down the stairs at the front of the station before stopping - on a broken hip! as it later turned out. He had an operation on Thursday so we popped in today to see him this evening.

Spent the day in the garden, here's Z listening to the birds, a windchime and her brother playing.