Thursday, September 30, 2010

Wet pigeons, supper for two and late night.

1. Pigeons on the ridgepole, black against the rain smudged sky. You know we're in for a long, wet day because they haven't bothered to find shelter. I'm so glad I'm not a pigeon.

2. Louise comes for supper -- we sit at the kitchen table and talk babies and sewing with small people.

3. Nick comes home late because he has been out to dinner. He is ever so slightly the worse for wear, and even more fond than usual. It reminds me of when a normally rather reserved assistant art editor I used to work with told me that the night before his girlfriend had come home after an evening out, and he was still delighted about it. "She was so pretty and giggly and happy and it made me love her even more."

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