Ok, I admit it, I've been taking it easy. Ever since we got back from France I've been enjoying myself doing not very much at all.
There has been the occasional crisis, of course, life is not without its little ups and downs. But, on the whole, all my problems have been small ones - which makes a change.
One of the small problems has been an infestation of Araneus diadematus [or should that be Araneus diadematii?]. They moved into the house while we were away and they're still all over the place.
We don't kill spiders - mosquitoes, fleas and clothes moths we'll happily do away with but most other things, well, it's live and let live. They don't bother us, we don't bother them.
Except in France: for some reason, every time the boys saw a creepy crawly over there, they wanted to gas it. The second night we were there the Big Fella found an insect in his room and got all overexcited. "Dad! Dad! Come quick! There's a bug in my room with more legs than sense!" I went and looked: "It's only a centipede. Leave it alone."
He wasn't entirely convinced - as far as he was concerned it looked far too exotic to be benign - but he let it be. Admirable self-restraint in a 12 year-old - when he was small he used to eat ants. They taste quite sour, reportedly.
