I know it's an abuse of Bridget's blog - although one for which I hope she will forgive me - but I thought I'd give you some news only tangentially related to her.

My Rowan Williams book was published today (though I don't yet have a copy); we're all going to a launch event in London next Thursday (Bridget included, since she's the book's dedicatee). And I'm giving interviews on BBC Radio 4 (Sunday programme, this coming weekend) and BBC Radios Kent, Southern Counties, Greater Manchester, Derby, Devon, and possibly London and Cambridgeshire (which, I think, probably says more about the desperation of studios with statutory religious programming quotas than it does about the book...). On two of these, I am (bizarrely enough) in their 'somebody speaking about their faith' slot, and have to pick a song (a la Desert Island Discs). I've decided to go for the start of Schubert's Trout Quintet - the piece we played to Bridget in the womb, and then sang to calm her in the early months. At least that gives me a chance to talk about something I'm really an expert on for the last minute or two of those interviews.

I said I don't yet have a copy - a postal mix-up of some kind. I went to check in the Department of Theology this evening, and discovered that although the Williams book had not been delivered, two copies of the other big book - the one on Hans Frei - had been, even though I was not expecting publication until October. This was very exciting, but (a) nobody is going to interview me about that book - it has an intended audience even smaller than BBC 4 - and (b) I can't think of a plausible way of linking this story to Bridget even slightly.

I was in the sitting room yesterday, and hadn't worried about Bridget crawling out into the hall, since there's not much that she can get into trouble with on the ground floor. However, on looking out a minute or so later, I found her standing on the second step of the stairs, reaching for a letter a few steps higher. This was the first sign we'd been given of Bridget being capable of getting up steps, and it was a bit alarming, to say the least. She proceeded to climb up the rest of the (eleven) stairs, with minimal balancing support from Mummy. She even repeated the feat at bathtime, with no help at all. We think we might need to buy a second stair gate - we already have one at the top of the stairs.

Since I last wrote, Bridget has spent two further bits of time at Stepping stones nursery. On Friday she went in in the afternoon and I left her there for half an hour, slipping out quietly so that she wouldn't immediately notice that I'd gone. Apparently, she didn't notice for about ten minutes, which shows how little I matter when she's engrossed in playing! She was perfectly happy to be given her snack without me there and didn't even seem to be that fussed when I returned. All in all, a positive experience.

Today I took her in for an hour in the morning. Mornings are generally a lot busier, since a lot of mums work in the morning and then take their children home for the afternoon. So it was Bridget's first real experience of a horde of other children around without the protection of Mummy (there are usually the same sort of numbers at play group, but Mummy's never very far away). I left her there by herself for the whole hour. I gather that she was perfectly happy for the first 45 minutes, but then got distressed by the attentions of the older children (almost-two-year-olds), who all came rushing to see the new baby. When I got back she'd been crying in Lorraine's arms for about five minutes. She can't have been too distressed, however, since she quietened down as soon as she was handed back to me and provided with Mummy's keys to play with.

Overall things seem to be going pretty well. The next phase will be a lunchtime visit later this week, with me going away for an hour and a half.