Sedbergh has had to do without my husband Keith for a week as he went to Suffolk to look after two of our grandchildren, Oliver, aged 12 and Louie 5, while their mother went on holiday to Turkey with girlfriends. I’ve no sympathy with him as he volunteered but I do admire his pluck. On Sunday, Tuesday and Thursday it’s rugby training for Oliver, he plays for his home town and his school. Louie has to be delivered to swimming lessons and little strikers football plus there’s all the school runs. Before taking up this mission Keith devoted time to planning the regime under which the boys would live. One, lots of cycling; two, bloke lessons; three, tea at five and four, watch the Simpson’s. And so each evening the boys stand by their bikes ready to ride out. Along the cycle route they use is a heavily burdened apple tree. The fruit was too high up for the boys to reach but I bet you can guess who climbed the tree. Yes, that’s right, it was Grandad Keiffy. While he dangled from an upper branch more little boys gathered beneath the tree in the hope of catching a juicy prize. At this point Oliver called up from the bottom of the tree, “Grandad, Mum said we were not to let you climb the tree.”

Another duty is homework supervision. Louie reads a book each evening and Keith has to write a comment on how well he read. It’s asking for trouble and of course Keith rose to the occasion writing that he thought the story a bit drawn out but he enjoyed the twist at the end. Thank heavens the teacher had a sense of humour. On the Tuesday Oliver brought home a permission slip, he wanted to read a book which was for slightly older boys. Naturally, Keith couldn’t resist a bit of comedy so before writing the correct title he wrote that he would be happy for Oliver to read Lady Chatterley’s Lover. Upon reading this Oliver said: ‘It’s alright Grandad I’ll just tell them you’re a comedian.”