That’s what the kid says every morning at about 7:45. It is usually the second or third thing out of her mouth, after the daily yell of horror, a string of shouted gibberish that, as near as we can make out, translates as “WHY AM I HERE?! I WAS JUST DREAMING ABOUT DOGGIES AND NOW MY BUM IS WET!!”

Sometimes she also asks for “mick”, known to speakers of English as “milk”, which is a fluid that comes from cows. Then she says “Wwwwwok?” and goes looking for the stroller and her shoes (“Choose!”).

The kid likes to walk. We are blessed with a beautiful park about 400m from our doorstep: Cofton Park. With more than a hundred acres of hills and grassland, it’s an attractive place to play football and cricket, have a picnic, walk your dog, or watch your toddler tear away from you at breakneck speeds:

There she goes!

Uncle Steve gives up.

It is also attractive to major events: last summer we had the European Cross-Country championships. This summer, we’ve got the Pope. (We will not be there. Our house falls within the security zone, and we don’t fancy having to apply for access passes in order to drive on our own street.)

Hurry up!

"Aren't you coming?"

Anyway, woks. I mean, walks. The Bean loves them. She’s getting good at going long distances, too. We give her a little blue soccer ball to kick as she goes, and she dribbles it all over the grass, up hill as well as down. She pushes the stroller. She climbs on to benches, throws dirt, and gets kisses from the many friendly dogs in the area (aside: how did I, a cat person, wind up producing this obvious dog lover? Strange). She cheers for any football teams that are playing or practicing, and has to be persuaded not to join them. If she falls down, she gets right back up again.


"Okay, then, see you later."

And the other evening, she discovered her shadow stretched out on the grass. She ran after it until she crossed into a shady place, where it vanished. After looking to me for help, she hurried back into the sun, and crowed: there it was again! Back and forth she went a few times, until she fell down. Then she folded her hands by her chin.

“Seep,” she told me. “Goda seep.”



  1. Ah, and the enjoyment of WOKS (too cute) begins….we used to do laps around our block in CA and now, much longer adventures in Texas. Love you guys and Happy Anniversary! Enjoy your jaunt to the land of kilts and golf. Love ya!

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