Friday, February 07, 2014

Shiners, filling the time and in the baby room.

1. Alec shakes the silvery drops off the hood of his new raincoat.

2. I was going to get a coffee between the nursery drop-off and physio (a coffee all by myself) but I am so wet and the world is so wet that I can't be bothered. I go the long way round, walking over the Common to get a bit of greenwood time and then arrive early, which means 15 minutes reading my Interzone.

3. I am about ten minutes late picking Bettany up -- the rain, the rain. I can hear her shouting as I climb the stairs. "She's been like this maybe ten minutes," they tell me. How did she know the time I was supposed to come? I sit and bub her on the floor and chat with the staff about her afternoon. The baby room has a sense of quiet purpose that I enjoy very much.

Winter is passing, toad in the hole and mulled wine.

1. It is cold (although less chill than it has been) and cloudy (although less grey than it has been) and a robin sings loudly from the top ...