Monday, May 21, 2012

Send me a cheque, sugar craft and Sunday afternoon.

1. "I can see you're tempted," says the cobnut man.
"I haven't got any money left," I tell him.
"You can send me a cheque if you like."
"People really do that? You trust them?"
"All the time at markets, people are really good. Send me a cheque when you get home."
I think for a moment -- I am very tempted by the cobnut cheese biscuits. Then I have to tell him: "But I still won't have any money when I get home."
At that he laughs, and says he doesn't want to drive me into debt.

2. We gasp as the chef on the bandstand slides a spring of hard caramel off his steel; and again as he tips a teaspoonful of bicarb into another pan and pours frothing honeycomb on to the worktop.

3. We sit on a bench on the common, Nick and I, and watch as Alec toddles back and forth. "This is how I imagined Sunday afternoons would be," says Nick.

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...