Back to work tomorrow, after three weeks off. The same for Anne after longer. And for Arthur after ever longer than that. To a new school and all.
It feels like we're missing a festival in here somewhere, I know the school year still anachronistically mirrors the agricultural one but harvest festival is too late. We need some sort of Back To Work festival where we ceremonially burn broken deckchairs and tangled swingball sets and then do an hour or so of ritualistic pencil sharpening.