Friday, March 09, 2007

Timing, basement baby and redolent.

1. PaulV is late, which means I get home from work in time to accompany him and Katie on a recycling and hot chocolate mission.

2. Baby Oliver from downstairs. His parents brought him up to visit so we could wonder at his thick black hair and his tiny, almost translucent fists. He kept his eyes screwed tight shut for the whole visit -- possibly a good thing because the shock of our red hall might have been too much.

3. The company downstairs at work has given me a book to proofread for some pocket money. The pages smell faintly of the director's cigars. It reminds me of university, because two of the tutors smoked cigars in their offices. I would have tutorials in a haze of blue smoke, and my essays would came back with a tobacco smell on them. For me, it's a good omen -- if there's a smell of cigars in a building, I'm going to be happy there.