Sunday, July 31, 2011

Orange flowers, over the garden wall and the mops.

1. After breakfast, we sit in the garden -- I do some watering and sow a few pots of lettuce. I give Alec some nasturtiums to play with, and I'm taken by the way the orange flowers match the orange bears on his sleep suit.

2. Our neighbour peeps through the gate at Alec. We gossip -- "Was that Grayson Perry in your garden the other week?" And she had Coming Round the Mountain stuck in her head after overhearing me singing it to Alec in the garden. "Don't apologise -- you've got a nice voice, and I heard you singing, and heard your baby laughing and I felt like I was intruding. Don't apologise, these houses are so close together, we all hear each other." We really do -- I quite like it, though. You never feel alone if you can hear other people chuntering on with their lives.

2c. Ailsa plays Alec's favourite bouncing game, "This is the way the lady rides" -- she has some other verses that we didn't know, though. Alec looks bemused and pleased -- I know this bouncing talking thing, but it's not Mummy, and it's not the same riders.

3. We are struck with indecision in front of a display of mops. We need something to keep our floor clean, but what? There is so much choice. Another shopper comes up beside us and says: "I use that one." She has a speech impediment, and doesn't reply when I ask her about it. It occurs to me that she might have impaired hearing. I think she is very brave to help out strangers in a shop. "It's really good, that one. But the one you're holding is better value."  I turn to face her and try to speak more clearly when I thank her for her advice.

3. We clean up all the reduced chocolate we can find in town -- factory seconds, broken bars all get dropped into our shopping bag.

Morning, errands and entertainment.

1. I murmur an acknowledging greeting to a passing bin man. He is a well brought-up African and replies with eye contact and a warm 'Goo...