Surfing seniors are a good thing, one guesses. In our family's case we can rest easy knowing publishers of anything that combines Scotland, the monarchy and/or 20th C military history can meet any site traffic targets they have. Book, travel, flight arrival schedules and weather sites also get a look in, and fat photo files wing their way from one broadband person to another. Sometimes the odd questionable email claim comes in as well.

But what a pesky bunch. A lapse of a mere 242 days since the last text update and everyone's shaking a virtual pitchfork, demanding news on granddaughter developments. So let's see...

Last time we checked in, Liv was bum shuffling along the floor and Gemma was directing the choice of parks. Now, Liv is walking, and sometimes sprinting, around the place. She's a no-fear kinda gal, climbing up whatever needs climbing, falling down and getting on with things, cruising up and down stairs. Her parents are a little less babygate obsessed, marking a huge improvement in mobility for Liv and everyone everyone else. A healthy appetite is being fed by dexterous use of forks at the big girl table, so the high chair is on its eBay way to another family (joining the prams and car seats already outta here). Luckily a mere whisper of "toothbrush" gets Liv scrambling to the bathroom, hands outstretched, so those six or so teeth remain pearly white.

Gemma is still into her parks, but also developing other priorities: hitting Tesco's, visiting Hannah, watching Dora ("my favourite show") or, if her father is around, the Simpson's ("my second favourite show", although this claim is a transparent, if charming, lie, as other shows get more attention). The birthday party season is alive, most recently with lifelong pal Lucy turning four last weekend, hosting a lovely puppet-in-the-park affair. Only a few months until Gemma hits the same milestone.