The woodland floors are damp and musty, and scattered with fat, shiny, sweet chestnuts - at five euros a kilo in the supermarket, I'm training the children to load their pockets with the fattest and the shiniest every day.
Talking of whom, I see that Eric Hoffer agrees with me...
"Call not that man wretched, who whatever ills he suffers, has a child to love."
It's good to have B-B back!