This morning I woke up, pretended to eat the imaginary ice cream (green flavour!) that Goblinboy pretended to feed me, got up and fetched Baby Wolfeater from his cot, gave them milk, and went back to bed to snuggle my husband. Dashi joined us, because the best place for a lurcher to be is cuddled on our duvet, and after a little while we were invaded by our small and not so small sons. Then I got up.

It's Sunday, so I abandoned my husband with the small boys, and Dashi and I went to the farm. Many people have told me I'm a lucky bastard, and trust me when I say that I believe them. Our great friends Clare and Christian have rented us (back in April) a little scrap of unused woodland with a pond in it (about an acre all in all, but not all useable) in return for one pig per year - ready for the freezer. So we built a fence (cue swearing, shouting, bleeding) and now we have pigs, six chickens in a run we got for free (score!), a greenhouses we have yet to rebuild (secondhand for nothing), a shed containing the very beginnings of a rabbit tree (meat rabbits, don't get all sappy on me), and a raised bed growing potatoes.

I fed the animals, walked to Copper's field and gave him breakfast, and went for a walk with Dashi and the farm spaniels. It was a good morning.

Then I came home to be greeted by all my boys.

Goblinboy will be three (THREE? where did the time go?) at the end of October, and Wolfeater has just turned one. Goblinboy is all about the talking, playing pretend, the questions (Why is rain?), the learning about hammers and anvils (he's learning from his Daddy. I'm proud), and the helping with absolutely everything (anyone need a tiny gardener?). Wolfeater is walking (properly walking) and has been able to climb the stairs since six months (yeah, we've had no rest), and is busy eating whatever he can lay his hands on and trying out new word-sounds.

And.... now neither of them are napping anymore, and I gotta go.

Oh, and I wrote something. Kitt's been great at keeping my secrets as always. Bye y'all!