The poor little sprocket has a cold. I think this is her first, so she’s done well to get to five months without any real illness. She woke up this morning with an upper lip looking like she’d just ascended that ski-lift in Dumb and Dumber. She’s been really brave and is still herself (ie. vocalising on both the in- and out-breaths). She has no temperature, so I hope she’ll get better soon.
The fashionable way to manipulate toys is to try and pull them like you’re stretching dough. I’m hoping this practice at an early stage will set her up well for becoming a pizza chef. Maybe she could at least be an amateur (she’d have to keep her other job). She’d certainly do a better job than me, I always manage to burn even the supermarket pizzas. Thinking about it, there are loads of cooking opportunities for her around here. We had a huge haul of fruit from our garden – a tree full of apples, another full of plums and brambles heaving with blackcurrants. Plenty for the budding pudding cook or master jam-maker.