Day 105: Never leave the house without a raincoat...

April showers have finally arrived. Twice in the last week I've been caught out by glorious weather in the morning, and blizzard conditions by lunchtime. Of course I was out in only my gilet, and no raincover for the buggy. Still, it needed a good clean.

Today it was thankfully only light drizzle, and the smell of spring finally emerging from the parched ground. The creek outside our house is almost dry in places, and just as the place is starting too look more green, the lack of snowfall this winter suggests it may be brown and yellow again in a month.

It made me think, though, of all the things one should have in their handbag (or rucksack if I'm including my raincoat), and an article in one of the broadsheet supplements detailing the contents of a celebrity's purse. Of course it is supposed to give away their beauty secrets via well placed advertorial, and we are supposed to rush out and buy these overpriced cosmetics.

For my own part, my tastes are much more simple. Instead of the various receipts, expired coupons, leaky biros and suspect crumbs of Charlie's snacks, my handbag would be more suited to the yummy-mummy, ex-English teacher, aspiring writer I imagine myself to be. Apart from the obvious (notebook for important thoughts, fully charged camera for impressive photos of offspring, pad, healthy snack, bottle of water, lip balm, hair bobble, mirror, brush) I'd have space to put stuff. I never seem to have that in my handbag, just an endless chasm filled with detritus.

For Charlie's part, hers would be full of stones. No matter where we go, she seems to come back with pockets full of rocks; I'll have to be extra zealous when we pack to return, and make sure she isn't exceeding the weight limit with her own souvenirs. If she could, she probably would have brought half the zoo back with her last week. She amused several strangers with her cries of, "hold it," and, "stroke it," at pretty much every enclosure. Thankfully she made do with a handfull if grit.

It's scary how fast she is growing up. She now swims off round the pool with a noodle or armbands, no care for where I am, climbs walls to jump off, chooses her own clothes and is adept at finding things in drawers which she probably shouldn't touch. Diva in training.

Still, it's nice to have a snuggly baby back at nap time, who thinks that my lap is the most comfortable place to be.