Sunday, November 18, 2007

Race, touch of magic and sweetcorn.

1. Walking across the Grove, a tennis ball rolls over my toes. I almost trip over the black and white dog chasing it, and then the owner just misses running into me. We laugh about it -- how very English.

2. An oldish woman, perfectly coiffed and dressed, stands outside Hoopers. She is wearing startling glossy red lipstick. I imagine she must be a fairy godmother.

3. Gnawing sweetcorn off the cob.

Arrival, left over from Sunday and lamp light.

1. Some new baby news lifts the morning. 2. For lunch there is ramen with leftover leeks and squash, shreds of pork and shards of deep orang...