That's probably the colour of my hair, thanks to a weekend spent with the family. Stress, uber-stress and then some.

Still coming to terms with the image of my 11-year old niece, now wearing make-up and hot pants and looking all of 18. It makes me feel so sad that there is hardly any time left before they become strangers, leading their own lives. I'm trying hard to cling to the joyful feeling of playing cricket with the nieces, parting a visitor's hair with a wild shot, bribing Puppy to give up the ball that she had triumphantly captured, and making youngest niece curl up with laughter when, thanks to a particularly fine shot that sent the cricket ball into the stinging nettles, I obtained six runs in a variety of running styles. I'm pretty sure that the last of these would have got me a job in the Ministry of Silly Walks.

Childhood seems so short these days. Maybe that's why I feel I cannot let go of it. I celebrated my return home with an ice cream down at the beach. Tomorrow, maybe, I might even take my bucket and spade down there and swim in the sea.

On second thoughts ....