Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Finishing the porridge, tulips and found keys.

1. Alec never finishes his bowl of porridge at breakfast. I always clear the table and leave his bowl by the sink meaning to deal with it later. Then I park him in front of CBeebies while I go upstairs to dress. When I come down he has retrieved the bowl and is sitting guiltily on the rug (eating in the front room is frowned upon) spooning up cold porridge as fast as he can.

2. All the beds at Tunbridge Castle are planted up with row upon row of tulips tight closed like green fists. A passing grandmother tells her granddaughter that "They need some sun on them before they'll open."

3. To find my lost keys (they were in Nick's jacket pocket: he'd found them in his study but got distracted while bringing them downstairs. I thought they'd be in one of his pockets, but didn't quite like to search before he got home).

Done, moon and Irish fairy tales.

1. A meeting that is over by 9.30am. 2. A big full moon is stuck on next door's chimney pots. 3. By my bed is a large and comforting boo...