Sunday, October 21, 2012

Flour, goodbye and clear.

1. We make some cloud dough for Alec to try -- it's flour and oil and it packs like wet sand (but is not gritty) or snow (but it's not cold). He's interested -- but I think we are more so, and after he's gone back to his trains, I play around with a yoghurt pot until I can turn out a satisfactory sandcastle every time.

2. Alec watches us carefully as we say goodbye to our guest. He is covered with flour, and anyway, I don't like putting pressure on him to hug anyone -- but as she is walking down the path he hurtles past me out of the front door, his feet bare, saying "Bye bye, kiss!"

3. To look across the room at a space that I have recently de-cluttered.