Free-kicks

Funny the difference a year can make. 12 months ago our daughter was barely crawling and would sleep pretty much where we laid her. Now she has a personality as big as Greenland and the cheek to match, doesn’t want to go to sleep and when we finally get her eyes closed and dreaming of Yann Kermorgant free-kicks (well, it’s what I dream of), it is the only time she is not running around like a banshee.

Hence, this year’s Christmas trip home has been far knackering for me and the other half. Now though we get a bit of time to relax in the comfort of our friends sumptuous home near the historical town of Shenfield in Essex (photo).

They have a nipper too, so a playmate to add to some planned downtime for us and a finally timezone converted little ‘un.

We are off to see some old pals from Bermuda this afternoon at their place in Ongar, a ride up the A128 but then back to Shenfield or the enclave of Hutton Mount to be precise (not an Amy Childs to be seen thank christ) until we depart the UK on January 3rd.