Un Llun ar Dydd Llun

  Picking Conkers.  What Sunday afternoons are for this time of year. Half an hour later, they’ve all got holes drilled in them.  A couple of them have been threaded with shoe laces and there are shouts of “Strings!” and “I’ve got a oner!” coming from the back garden. Happy Days.

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40 / 52 {on the hunt for conkers}

Robb | I think you counted 52 conkers by the time we got home!  Not captured on camera: You asking Alf if he saw flying unicorns as he came around from his anaesthetic after having his teeth pulled out.  And that hug you gave me the other night?  See below, I think that’s what brought that on.  […]

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