Suntrap

"Ooh I like that dress in that magazine"
"Never mind that mum, I think your bag's on fire"

The beach (Gullane) was as busy as I've ever seen it - with barbecues, tents and deckchairs (and cars parked as far as the eye could see).

Our little trip to the beach turned into a long expedition - taking up most of the day. The kids ran back and forth to the see, used up all the bubble mix in the world making and chasing enormous bubbles (thanks Mo - top toys). Meanwhile I ploughed through the Guardian and sizzled under the scorching heat. Finally prized them away from the sand with the promise of ice cream.

We were distracted on our way back by bumping into some friends who'd set up a water slide for their kids to play on. Suddenly all thoughts of ice cream were gone while they played in the water. Then home for dry clothes, out for ice cream and then relax - in the shade!

Our probably-almost-definitely-but-still-not-wanting-to-jinx-anything purchasers are coming round tomorrow to remind themselves of the house so they can decide where their furniture will go. Conor will be out, but I had to tell Katherine. I guess all the preparatory work I've put in on the advantages of moving hasn't really paid off. Lots of tears. :(

Having kids is a rubbish responsibility sometimes. It's all very well me and Mr B upping and offing to another country - but we're tearing the kids away from all they know. I know they'll learn French, make friends and be fine - but looking at her brave little tear-stained face, all I wanted to do was call it off and stay in this house until I'm old and grey. A bumpy road ahead, I think.