Long shorts


Robin has started school. He’s three days in – two short days and today his first full day. All has been smooth, but he was subdued after day one. L couldn’t get an explanation, but we wondered whether it had felt an anti-climax: no great change from nursery.

Robin is refusing to wear the school sweatshirt. He hates jumpers, he told me, having asked me to help him take it off, seconds after the teacher had made him wear it on leaving school on day 2. So he wears a polo shirt and traditional grey shorts that stretch down over his calves. They’re very eye-catching.

Ready for school

showing some calf


Eliza has been moved to a new gym class. She’s the smallest, slightest and palest of a group of 20 girls aged up to 15. She holds her own in this company. On Saturday I saw her doing floor exercises and vaulting. She did a forward flip over the vaulting horse with straight arms and straight legs. It had been the first time she had been asked to do one.


Two swimming pool visits in two weeks and two angst-ridden melt-downs over swimming trunks. The first over whether new trunks would be ‘acceptable swimwear’ – they were. The second over the state of his other pair of trunks which were spotted with tissue paper residue from the washing machine.


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