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I knit, I sew, I run, I look after children and hamsters, I take truly terrible pictures, I cook, I complain.  Sometimes all at the same time.

Monday, 20 August 2012

Back home

I started writing this last night after we got back, but I was, according to my husband, "too tired from knitting all the way from La Carneille to West Ealing".  Being in a house with 4 children under 5 is somewhat exhausting, as they always seemed to be either shouting or running or screaming or laughing or something that was far louder than anything any of the adults wanted to do.  At least it's almost completely put me off the idea of having any more children.

Fortunately, it was a bit too hot to do much bicycling in the Suisse Normande, and after a 12km cycle up hill, the cycling was mostly done by Lucy on the back of her Daddy's bike, and I just enjoyed cleaning and tidying my euphemistically called "beau-pere"'s house.  He has many admirable qualities but cleaning is not one, and having a huge, hairy dog in tow doesn't help matters.

I got a lot of knitting done as well, which is always a good thing.  The Olympics project is almost completely finished - I just have to do the thumb on the right one, but it's just too hot to contemplate working on a mitten.  So I am making an afghan blanket for Lucy instead, in pure wool.  It's in squares, and now I only have 4 left to make, then a whole load of crochet, and then lining the damn thing.

We took out with us when we went bat hunting in the park round the back of the house, and Lucy loves it already, which is gratifying.  It's lovely and warm, and just the thing for when the sun goes down and you're only wearing a vest.

I wanted to write a whole lot about the holiday, about the book I read (Julie and Julia - surprisingly good), about the seaside and the trip to Mont St Michel, but I've got to take the photos off the camera, and not use the nerd computer for that, so it must wait for another day.

We had a lovely time, and now have a fridge that honks of Pont l'Eveque and unpasteurised Camembert, and I highly recommend the Suisse Normande for a short cycling break, especially if you have Sir Chris Hoy-esque thighs of steel.

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