Sunday, April 24, 2011

Amused, morning and rain at last.

1. Sometimes when I am wiping Alec under his chin or his arms, he giggles. Only sometimes, though -- it's hard to predict what will delight him. (Picture by Nick Law)

2. Nick and Alec are still in bed when the doorbell goes. "It is after 10," says my mother apologetically. She is gratifyingly keen to see her grandson.

3. There has been some thunder, which made us rush to bring in the washing (the airer is standing expectantly in the kitchen doorway). We are starting to think our scramble was in vain when the rain starts falling. The quiet earth sighs. It's been a dry, dry month.

End at the beginning, whistler and no pressure.

1. To start the day by finishing a book. 2. I'm sure we knew that the emergency kettle is a whistling one; but we'd forgotten since ...