…I would tell tales of strippers and tantrums; of party dresses unworn and returned, muttering “maybe next time…” as I fill in the little bit on the receipt for getting a refund, all the time wondering if I am totally socially inept. I would moan about colleagues and early mornings and dirty changing rooms, plus overpriced swimming pools. I’d probably write down my extensive thoughts on that matter – is it actually fair to charge £4.10 for one swim when the sea is literally 100 metres away? “Should I just get a wetsuit?” I’d ask of you, my trusty three readers. I would probably not get a wetsuit or go to the swimming pool.
I would despair at the neighbourhood cat who thinks it’s a good idea to wander into our house in the middle of the night, before wailing in that awful way that cats tend to do, not far enough removed from a screaming baby for my liking. I would tell you about an overheard story on the train today, that was actually too good to be true. I would… I don’t know. Recount the drunk man with a broken leg who screamed in agony when he sat down, and people turned to look at what the fuss was about, before tutting because drunk men on trains (esp. at 5pm) should be banned. Read More
Calm Sunday evening
Hectic Saturday afternoon: They came, yesterday at four. They tumbled into the house, adults greeting politely at the doorway, whilst boys and girls rushed to tumble toys from trugs. Hallam clung to me, burrowing his face in my neck, and our guests traipsed through the hall, upstairs, downstairs, outside to the garden, and back inside again. Once inside, they’d hastily consume chocolate brownies and biscuits with one hand, whilst playing Mario Kart with the other. 10 x 2, 3 and 1 years of age. Aeroplanes, wooden trains and musical steering wheels with infernal melodies collided in the middle of our living room, neeeeeeooooowwwww, whilst I tried to comfort my friend (in tears!) in the kitchen. Sand everywhere. Should do this more often, really, as in spite of the chaos it’s nice. It makes me happy to see lovely people I usually see at work, not at work. Read More »