Monday, November 11, 2013

Forgiven, brights and a sound.

1. At 7.34am Alec comes back downstairs and tells me that Daddy says he doesn't have any sweets in his attic. I apologise and say that I was mistaken in my previous assertion. He climbs into bed beside me and asks for a cuddle.

2. The trees are almost bare but the leaves still left are all kinds of bright where the low-angled sun hits them -- green, some of them, lemon yellow, crisp brown, orange.

3. Before Alec started talking he used to make a lovely sound when he discovered something surprising that he liked. He never does it any more. This evening in the bath I built a tower out of some plastic containers and lids from his bath toy bag. When he saw what I was doing, he made that noise.

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