Unfortunately, the view from my living room window (taking in the south facing communal courtyard) currently looks like this:

That's the front door of the £200,000 patio-level flat you can see there.
Anyhoo, call me insane, but the thought of walking halfway to Lewes, uphill, in a snowstorm doesn't really appeal to me, so I'm staying in. I'll go next year instead. Possibly with a pram.
Actually, on the subject of children, we received a gift yesterday from Lisa's mother...

Anyway, bearing in mind that my neighbours are inclined to bang on the ceiling if I make Lisa laugh after 10pm, it's probably just as well to have a book of advice on crying babies. If all else fails, I can use it to beat the child unconscious. Lisa's already read a couple of chapters, while I've flicked through the index, looking for a chapter on partying Poles, which are the main cause of my sleep problems.
Sadly I didn't find anything on that, but I did find this:

All of which are dances I've done at weddings. I know more about babies than I thought.
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