Saturday, June 04, 2011

Off my chest, kindness of strangers and gingerbread wife.

1. It's been a rough night -- I'm not sure, but I think it was FIVE feeds. I finally gave up on the cot and put Alec on my chest so I could at least doze. The boy has woken up and started to whine and wriggle down my body while sticking his fingers in my mouth and up my nose. I love to hear Nick say: "Shall I take him downstairs and give him some breakfast?"

2. Alec's hat blows off (it has room for him to grow) and flies into the middle of the road. I try to go after it, but it's bowling along, and my sandals aren't made for running after hats. "It's gone," says Nick (he has Alec in the sling, so he's definitely not running anywhere either. "It's gone. Leave it." We walk on up the street with Alec squinting crossly, when: "Excuse me, excuse me!" A man hurries up behind us, gives me the hat and hurries off, barely giving us time to thank him. We tell Alec that he can sometimes rely on the kindness of some strangers.

3. "The cake stall was there," says Nick as he comes in from the cricket match that was played this evening. During cricket week each year an enterprising family usually sets up shop on the lane leading up to the grounds -- but they haven't been there until today. He brings me a wobbly gingerbread lady generously decorated with gloopy purple icing and hundreds and thousands. She is delicious.