The London son is sunning himself in Ibiza. He and his work colleagues were asked to tick what they wanted to do on the first morning (because after all, this is a working holiday!) - go-karting; have a massage or lie by the pool. I held my breath because I thought I knew that he'd plump for go-karting. But no - his tick went next to lie by the pool - sensible lad. When he gets back he's got precisely six hours before he leaves for Kuala Lumpur - complete (I hope) with soluble aspirin, circulation socks and Deet.
The artist son has definitely got green fingers - absolutely everything he plants and transplants, thrives. I got two free clematis plugs through the post last month - I kept one and gave him one. Mine has completely disappeared while his is half way up his fence.
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