TOWARD the end of October my husband Keith and I go down to Suffolk to put our caravan to bed for the winter.

This year we left it later than usual to coincide with number two daughter, Katharine’s knee operation, as we were needed to look after her two older children Megan, aged seven, and five-year-old Freya.

When we arranged to have the children at the caravan I think we were still living on memories of summer when they could play on the beach or paddle in a calm sea and so it was a bit of a shock to find ourselves shivering over a two bar electric fire and fighting over custody the hot water bottle. As for the beach, half of it was on the promenade and the waves were coming in like Hawaii Five O.

We decided the better option would be to abandon the caravan and bring the children back home to Sedbergh where we have the luxury of central heating and room for them to play. We collected the girls and packed their accompanying paraphernalia into the car, car seats, drinks, teddies and so on. Everyone was settled in and saying their goodbyes’ when Katharine casually announces, “Oh, by the way Freya has worms.” (Well, it makes a change from nits).

I can’t say I was overjoyed to hear this but I was assured that a quick trip to the chemist would solve the problem. We got back Sunday and first thing Monday Keith was standing outside the chemist waiting for it to open. If they hadn’t been able to help I’m sure the vets could have provided us with some Bob Martins.

What Keith discovered is that ‘we’ had to take the tablets too.

So there we sat at breakfast, each one of us with a bowl of cornflakes and a worming tablet, delightful. During the week we endeavoured to tire the children out on long walks but only succeeded in wearing ourselves out. One day we took them to see a children’s film. I’ll not mention the title, but please can I have my money back. The girls appeared to enjoy it while Keith and I attempted to sleep behind our 3D glasses. Oh, the joys of grandchildren.