Holidays.

One of the many walks I didn't go on. I don't really get the benefit of the mountain air whilst we are in the Lodge. My world is saucepans (I really like the ones provided and am sorry to leave them behind) the electric hob that I dislike intensely, being used to the responsiveness of gas, and the inadequate supply of large casseroles. I enjoyed the shops in the burgeoning town of Ballater. So much choice and a level of sophistication in the coffee shops I'm not used to. I think the days of belt-tightening are over (not mine sadly). My book dealer friend talks of the minor (and not so minor) royals they see on a daily basis, and stars of stage and screen who hobnob with them behind the counter, blagging a cup of tea.

The meat from the butcher was wonderful. I tried out an excellent Moroccan lamb tagine with lots of spices, sweet dried fruit ad almonds.

It was a good week. The Cornish Wreckers are less interested in wrecking than beating me at Monopoly and at last they like me to read to them. Both activities I enjoy (but don't tell anyone I enjoy Monopoly. It's a dark secret hidden even from myself.) They still wake at 5.30 hungry and wanting attention so when I got back to the blissful solitude of my own house on Sunday I slept almost all afternoon.

Every year the dynamics change. Fin was looking forward to going off on adventures with his cousin Sandy. Sandy turned 15 that week and really wasn't up for adventures with smalls, more obsessed with the huge spot on his nose and beating his uncle at squash. Fin was disappointed. Sigh.