Wellie Walk

The children tromping across the field to the beach at West Barns, East Lothian. All except Gordon sporting brand new wellies from yesterday's haul. All except Duncan arrived home with wet socks (you can see why Malcolm did, although he just had no idea how it happened, Dad!) Gordon simply walked in deeper until the water overflowed and Katie's fashion wellies are basically rubbish. But she loves them.

More from today on Flickr.

Duncan's Proper Hunter Wellies are for his week away at school camp, the annual trip for all the Dunbar cluster primary schools to Dounans Camp. I was up to high doh in my own quiet way, up from 8 sorting and labelling. By the time the rain stopped and we'd had lunch, everything was organised and he even remembered the colour of his facecloth. It must be all those daft bike races I've done, but I feel you need to know where your midge net is at all times. And your towel - but that's a bit Hitch Hiker.

So, what state will all this thoroughly labelled and organised clothing arrive home in? We'll find out on Friday!

After the lads went home on the bus themselves yesterday, this feels like a great big deal to me. Of course, he's looking forward to it but he's totally blasé. Or so I thought until I found him reading Asterix at 10pm. "Can't quite settle down, Dad." You and me both son!