Càit a bheil Dada?

Ivy is a master at finding Dada- even when he's in the shower... It's his last day at home before going back to work tomorrow- I expect mournfull 'dada?'s and frantic house searching in the morning.

She slept from 4.30-6.30 in our bed, pincing my chin. I think her room was too cold for her, it's turned distinctly autumnal here.

We spent the day running erands: we dropped Tildas present out at lochside, picked up some plastic animals for small world play and water the allotment.

Since the weathers so rubbish we had a warmign dinner of spicey glazed gammon (one of my teeny tiny underripe chillis 'warmed' more than 2 literes of liquid very nicely) I used fresh coriander seeds from teh garden and they pack quite a punch. Was served with roasted beet and red cabbage (also from the garden).

We're trying Ivy on two naps a day, and since she only had a short afternoon nap she was tired and grumbly before dinner (Euan removed her moving priveledges as she was tired she kept falling over) so we gave a piece of gammon rind to chew on. She was pretty pro a piece of pure fat. After dinner, whilst Euan ran her bath, she kept making a 'mmmmmMMM' sound of a kiss, for me to lean in to her and then turned her cheek so I'd kiss it.