This beautiful picture of Nathalie and her baby Maya was taken by a friend just before mum and infant left hospital.
The rest show variously Nathalie, her beau Marvin, their newborn baby and her parents (Mme Salut has been described by one of the golfing Wags, who is a close friend of Nathalie's sister Christelle as the most glamorous granny she has seen).
No one has so far said M Salut is the most glamorous grandfather.
Maya now faces all the struggles of childhood: whether to support her dad's Newcastle Utd (which would at least given her a laugh or two) or her grandfather's Sunderland; which of her four possible countries to support at international level (England, Trinidad, the Seychelles or France); whether to be a tomboy or girlie; what to make of financial meltdown and Gordon Brown's leadership.
But they can all wait. For now, it is just a matter of getting used to being alive. And being smothered in affection.
* Apologies to relatives and friends whose first knowledge of Maya's arrival came at Salut!, on Facebook (which, I hasten to remind you, I joined on the instructions of daughters and then only while awaiting the launch of Wrinklebook) or from a bloke down the pub.
Let us just say that many more text messages and e-mails were sent from my Blackberry than seem to have arrived; my brother and sister, whose messages were the first to be sent, received nothing, for the very good reason that I had one old number and one incomplete one. In the memorable words of Private Eye magazine, I am the "p***ed old hack baffled by new technology".
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