Last Monday of the school holidays, last Monday of Louis' pre-school era, and last Monday of - er - the weekend. We took a rope, a tree, and a bit of wood, and made a swing. And what a swing it was, I could barely persuade the kiddies to go home for tea. The tree swing marked the end of a splendid weekend where we'd had Sam and the Stirlings round for tea and drinkies on a sunny Friday, pottered at Harlaw on a breezy Saturday, and dined al fresco at the splendid Café Cassis in Newington. A fitting end to the - notional - summer.
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