Samuel and I didn't fancy sharing a small flat with workman proffering paint fumes, so we decided on a spell of self-imposed exile at Granny Kate's house. And, believe me, self-imposed exile is always a very good thing when it involves a pantry full of biscuits and Ella's kitchen snacks, a garden to explore, a sandpit, a Keith Richards-style headband, copious amounts of wine and a Eurovision-fest with your mum. And Twitter. Cor, I love Eurovision and Twitter SO much. The only downside is that I've now used up my entire annual stash of half-arsed LOLs and I'm spent til next year. Oh well, here come the baby photos.
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