This week started with us spending valentines day hunting all of the local watery places for ducks for Rory to feed, a notion she became gradually more obsessed about as the day progressed. Luckily Bridgnorth has plenty of bodies of water to choose from, but since the idea of standing beside a river that was rising and that's fences are far from toddler proof put my stomach in knots, we ended up visiting many a frozen pool before I gave in and we took her to the river. Ducks were fed, nobody fell in, it was fine (but far from romantic).
We also learned that no matter how many foods she suddenly hates with the fire of a thousand suns, pasta isn't one of them. And Gatsby became something less of a Tom, but at least he can go outside without leaving a legacy of ginger kittens wherever he goes.
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