We had a horrible weekend. On Friday night. George was doubled up in pain. I gave him pain killer from the wrong measuring file and he slept til ten the next morning and was very drowsy. So Graham and I decided to take him to the local hospital in Payerne, where he started vomiting. The doctors squeezed around a bit and he was in pain again. Then they did an ultra sound and an x-ray and found out that part of the small intestine had been pushed into the large intestine. They said it was best to carry out a procedure to restore the intestines to normal, otherwise there was a risk of a blood vessel bursting and going ganngrene, which could kill the baby. Bloody hell!

The procedure could only be carried out with a surgeon on hand, and an anasthetist who was prepared to dose up a baby for an op if necessary. There was none of that in Payerne so they fixed up for us to go to Fribourg general hospital. I said I preferred to go to the specialist children's clinic at the University Hospital in Bern, and they told me the health insurance may not cover the costs as it is outside the canton where we live. Graham and I decided to take the risk and sell the car if we have to, to pay for whatever treatment George needs. I was unable to find out from SWICA whether the procedure would be covered - no access to my records at the emergency number. Great.

So we went to Bern without collecting overnight gear. They did another ultra sound and confirmed the Payerne diagnosis. Then they took our little boy into an operating theatre in the radiology department and blew air into his intestines until the small intestine was forced out of the large intestine. It was very painful for him and he cried a lot. He did not have any pain killer. Graham stayed with him and stroked him. I stood outside and watched the change in his intestinal pattern as x-rays were done, again and again.

Afterwards, George was exhausted and slept. We were taken to a room on the third floor, emtpy when we entered it- I slept with George in his hospital bed and Graham slept on a fold up bed next to us. Well, you couldn't really call it sleeping. More like just being there. During the night, a little girl was brought in to our room with a complicated arm break. George turned upside down repeatedly in his sleep and the nurse clattered around. We didn't get any sleep.

On Sunday, George was a bit tired but otherwise fine. He played happily in the play room and enjoyed all the different toys they had there. I went home to collect overnight gear and we all went for a walk to the city centre when I got back. Graham went home in the evening. Didn't get much sleep again as another child came into the room in the night.

On Monday we played a lot and George made a new friend. At around lunch time we were told we could leave. George has no intestinal pain. at home we have to look to see if he has any pain, if there is blood in his stools or any other abnormal signs. I am absolutely exhausted from all this. Graham is in Stans, working for the army.

I stayed at home today to look after George. We went to the gym in the morning, where there is a creche, but George wasn't happy and cried so I took him home. In the afternoon we went for a walk and Andrea, the neighbour's au pair, invited us in for a coffee. George and her charge, Yanik, played outside. It was a beautiful sunny day and very warm. George banged his head badly but seems ok. Every time he hurts himself I feel guilty and upset as I feel i didn't look after him well enough. He could not be more loved.

Was very touched that the doctors from the Payerne Hospital rang the Bern hospital to see how George was and whether the procedure had worked. The radiologist was a bit grumpy in payerne , but it just shows you can't judge a book by its cover or a radiologist by its bad mood.

We think George got a raw deal. What about those poor kids at school in Beslan.

Tomorrow I am going to interview survivors from the Beslan school hostage incident in which more than 300 children and adults were killed. A group of twenty have come to Switzerland to study at a school for three months. I will meet them in Nyon. Have been trying to get my head around interviewing them.

It's been a busy period for George Darwin. For the past two weekends he has been in mountain resorts, where he got dragged around a lot on various sledges and sometimes got tipped upside down (by mistake, of course. Please do not report his mum and dad for human rights abuses). We went on a long toboggan run in Mürren but every time we braked with our feet, poor George got a face full of ice. He didn't seem to appreciate it that much. I wonder why.

Then there was the sleep problem. Thin air at 2 thousand metres. Sharing the bedroom with noisy parents, who ate smelly burgers as soon as George had got his head down. The third night in another hotel was much better as baby got his own room to kip in.

He got to play with his four year old mate, Alexander Hieber-Girardet, whose sister, Elisa, and mum, Lori, were also present. Marion from Berlin, who is godmother to George and Alexander, also came along for the ride so it was a bit of a party.

March 7th 2005 was a memorable day for two reasons. First it was nanny Hunt's birthday. Hoorah. Second - George did his first potty poo. Hoorah again. Jin was very proud of him and mummy is very proud of Jin for having so much patience with her charge.

We are looking for a new au pair as Jin is leaving us (sniff). Signed up for an international au pair network. Meeting a local Portuguese woman tonight. The wheels are rolling.

The heating specialist came today and said the whole sytsem had been set up as if it were for under floor heating and that's why George and his poor old mum and dad were freezing their buts off. It's all fixed. The radiators are now hot. Hoorah.

George is going through another spate of sleeping badly, we know not why, and his mum and dad are shattered. I can just about get through the days. Tonight I am going to sleep in the single bed downstairs, away from baby's screams. Then Graham will get his turn for a good kip tomorrow night. He is having a nap now. George is over the road at Yanik's, playing with his only mate (who is about 6 months older than him). Jin has announced she is leaving at the end of March. We think we may have to get another au pair for more flexibility.

Yesterday I interviewed one of Switzerland's top plastic surgeons, inventor of liposuction, Dr Ulrich Kesselring. He numbers Hollywood stars among his clientele, and knows the surgeons who fixed Michael Jackson, Cher and Liz Taylor. I have a sneaking suspicion that he did Liz but he couldn't reveal his patient list. He said she complained about the return of saggy skin not long after the job was done, and was promptly told it was because of her alcohol and weight gain problem. Dr K told me MJ was not in his right mind and insisted on many many nose jobs against his surgeon's advice. And Cher, apparently, never appears completely naked although she may seem to be naked. She wears a tissue thin, skin coloured rubber suit that ends at the neck!

I have been trying to help fix up Alan with a translating job. Cioma Schönhaus wrote a great book about how he managed to escape persecution at the hands of the Nazis by forging passports, including his own, before fleeing to Switzerland by bicycle. Cioma said he would love to see an English version. (I interviewed him in December 04 after the German version was published). Alan contacted Granta and now Granta are in touch with Fischer Verlag, the publishers of the German version. Fingers crossed.

I put a little bird feed box outside the back door and the birds love it. There are bluetits and wagtails and a beautiful little fella that looks like a smaller version of the robin, but with a brown crest. Must find out what it is. There are also many fantastic, majestic birds of prey all around this area.

Weather is sunny and snow is melting. I hope spring comes soon. Still, even if it doesn't, at least we can look forward to warmer nights with our HOT radiators.

Long time no write! We have been battling with freezing cold temperatures and a heating system that barely functions. We sit watching TV in the lounge, swathed in winter hats, coats and the duvet off our bed. We would like to call the heating engineers but we hate them too much (for nearly ruining the house when they installed the system in the first place!)

Yestreday we filmed a mock road block at a countryside train crossing, with Gaby as soldier number two and Anissa and Dominique in the hot seats. That was for the Essential Field Training film we are putting together to publicise the courses.

In the afternoon, Mummy took George to the butterfly sanctuary in Kerzers and he was fascinated by the beautiful, enormous insects and humming birds hovering around him. He was particularly interested in a very big, ancient fish that lives in a glass sided pond in the tropical gardens. It was the only creature that survived the fire in the previous Papilliorama in Neuchatel.

But the nocturmarama was less of a success. It was dark and stinky and I'm sure George didn't spot any of the owls and monkeys lurking in lofty recesses. He just thought, "what the hell did mummy bring me to this stinky place for".

Outside there was a kind of petting zoo and a lovely goat came over to say hello. George tried to kick it away because I think he thought it was going to eat him, but I patted it and all was well. George maintained his sceptical expression, however. Good to see his survival instinct is intact.

It is snowing! New picture of the view from our bedroom window in the picture gallery, plus George in his new Formula One Racing pyjamas (a kind gift from nanny and grandad), with a whacky hairdo and his new toy - the shower head! George is much more interested in functional household appliances than toys and this kept him happy for a whole hour.

The Flood-Hunts have flu all over again. What a bore. I have had to take yet more time off work. News editor Ramsey says many staff members are off sick and he doesn't want to lose any more, so please don't come back and blow germs all over the survivors.

George has gone back to the doctor's yet again, for a check up. He still has a runny nose and cough, and is taking anti biotics. But he eats and sleeps well and is as playful and as gorgeous as ever.

OK George just back from doctors. He is 76 cm tall, normal weight (but Graham has forgotten weight details), normal head sitze, and has 8 teeth. He also has flu, and is likely to develop a fever before he gets better. He must stop with the anti biotics and have orange juice and iron tablets.

Graham and I are such doting parents. Sometimes I feel I have so much love for George that I am going to burst. Jin does a great job of looking after him but I fear it is a little claustrophobic here. He is mostly confined to the house with no other similar aged playmates, and he loves being with other children. I will try to find him a crêche in the vacinity for a few mornings a week.

Our brother-in-law, Pod, is here doing renovations on the house (see latest pix - Pod busy in the bathroom). He has rewired the lounge so we no longer have to rely on hideous yellow extention cables to watch TV. He is now retiling the bathroom and fitting a new bath. It's going to be lovely. I just wish we could afford it.

Poor Pod has been subjected to nightly editions of Eastenders and a menu of BBC Prime rubbish, plus his host lying groaning on the sofa while the other one groans in bed. What fun!

In between coughing bouts and wringing out the sheets, I have finished Julian Barnes's excellent 'History of the World in 10 and a hlaf chapters', which is a series of short stories set in different centuries, and loosely connected by the theme of Noah's Ark. It is funny and sad and philosophical, just my cup of tea. I particularly liked the last chapter about Heaven, where you could have exactly what you wanted all the time, but got sick of having things your own way after a couple of hundred years of it, and requested death!

Now I am reading ' The Bookseller of Kabul', which paints a grim picture of life for women during the war with the Soviets and afterwards. We Brits are so privileged to have been born in our comfy, western world, where men and women are, in principle at least, treated as equals.