Maybe the local eating habits are filtering through early, but Gemma did not inherit her current love of baked beans from her father, who was not keen on this "vegetable" when he was little. I guess this means Gemma's grandparents will not have to resort to the cheap, long-running series of gags they played: hide one small-but-symbolically enormous bean under a fried egg to be discovered half way through the meal (ha ha); or wrap a tin up as a Christmas present (ho ho).

Father's Day no. 2 and this time the theme was books. Interesting and useful ones at that. The first generates food for the mind, in the form of the Dictionary of Euphemisms - How Not To Say What You Mean. It's hard to cite this gift and sound sincere in saying I'm finding it interesting. The other involves food for the stomach, and the River Cafe's "Easy" cookbook. I have to point out that while I'm grateful for additional recipes from this source, I mustered the original Nemesis cake, ten eggs and all. I do like it's promise, though, of more easily sourced ingredients and perhaps a few less steps; good for the increasingly promising summer we seem to be having.

On that front we spent a fair amount of time in the backyard this weekend, taking advantage of new garden furniture and an inflatable pool. Gemma's been using both to great advantage, having a healthier appetite when dining al fresco, and dipping her toes into what appears to be a bottomless source of liquid for riotous tea parties. The real-life emulation score gets ratcheted up a notch from the kitchen, where assorted guests are poured air, to the garden, where water splashes here and there, sometimes into the cups.

No doubt about it, Gemma's practicing for her teenage employment years, with most meals now incorporating a tea party with the pig, cat and bunny (who are called "Pig", "Cat" and "Bunny"). Cups, saucers, teapots and sugar bowls are used, and if we're lucky, this provides enough distraction for Gemma to pop a bite or two into her mouth. Just don't try putting a green cup on a red saucer without expecting a frown and rapid correction.

We had another race around the Tate this past weekend, with a chance to see a good collection of 20th century photos. Gemma did spend an intense couple of seconds on each of the lower hanging
Fazal Sheikh prints, and it was interesting to see her critical eye take in the rather sombre images. Luckily her vertical status doesn't cloud the sightlines of other gallery patrons.

It's been a few months of SW UK centric activity. During the recent long weekend Gemma, Lucy and the respective families heading up to Blenheim Palace for a stroll around the grounds, and a quick run through the home (as patience was running low by the end of the afternoon). Later that weekend, the same gang descended on the more local Chiswick House, where ducks were quacked at, every second stone was picked up, inspected and replaced, and the invisible tether connecting child to parent was elongated.

Way back in April, Kathy and Susan went to Paris for a little fun and food. It was the first father n' daughter weekend alone, and a three day version at that. One discovers that temporarily single dads score lots of invites from friends hoping to ease the traumas and risks of this rarely experienced combo. Saturday afternoon saw a visit from the Petcher clan, coupled with a night-time visit at Paul and Jenn's, with Gemma giving some insight into their lives a couple of years from now. On Sunday afternoon we bundled up and hit the shires, heading to the equally bach'ed-weekender Kingsley and boys. Harry, ever the concerned older friend, was kind enough to gather a basket of toys for Gemma to play with, a popular move all round. The trip gave Gemma a few firsts - a stroll over the windswept plains of Gloucestershire, coupled with a first flying of a kite. Finally that weekend, Andy and Malu had us over for a serene stroll in their local park, a chat on topics near and far, and an early dinner. Maternal fears of Gemma not having a square meal over the weekend were somewhat unfounded, although she doesn't always reach for each of the multiple, lovingly-prepared courses put in front of her.