Perambulating v. 2.0

I formerly thought a sunny walk with one’s sweetheart to be the height of perambulatory satisfaction. I think we may now have a contender – a perambule with this picture of joy:

While the Philosopher lay low in his bunker, typing away at Chapter 1 of his doctoral thesis, some friends of ours whisked me away for a walk in the bush of South Oxford. Things can get pretty wild in this neck of the woods, so we brought protection: baby Lydia’s pram.

I don’t know if you’re familiar with the stroller market, but from what I’ve seen, it’s huge and hairy. Some prams come with four wheels, others with three; some with an aerodynamically oval shape, others a wind-blocking square; some have the under-pram basket, others the drop-down bag. And all, to my eyes, look fierce enough to run down any potential offender. Lydia’s is no exception; it even comes with a camouflaging screen which creates a sort of mirage effect of what lies beneath.

But Momma Jane’s friendly smile sort of belies any vicious threat, doesn’t it?

Come perambulate again, baby Lydia!


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