Friday, June 29, 2012

Sit back, conference call and petrels.

1. To sit back in an adirondack chair that is warm from the sun.

2. It's Rosey's birthday, and the family has organised a conference call with her. It is Alec's bedtime, but I open up the sofa bed and lie down. He walks around joining in the conversation, and then snuggles in for some bub. I stop talking and just listen to the questions (we always ask: "Is it completely dark? How dark then?" It must drive Rosey nuts.)

3. "All the birds have gone now," she says. "Except the stormy petrels. They're like... they're completely white and silent, like ghosts. Whenever you go out there's always one or two flying above the base. They must like the buildings... or the lights."

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