Friday, December 14, 2012

Pristine, an interesting cure for morning sickness and sing-song.

1. Our cleaning lady has been, and a man has done the oven. The house feels like a monument to leisure, or a snow-covered lawn, and  I hardly know what to do with myself this afternoon. I don't want to spoil it by living in it.

2. I am rather dreading going to the fishmongers -- just thinking about fish makes my innards heave. But to my surprise, when I walk into Sankey's, the fresh, chilly seaside smell and the bright-eyed produce ranged on ice seem to clear my head and steady my stomach.

3. Alec is clearly very, very tired after a hard day of cleaners and car park attendants -- but he stops nursing, stands up on the bed and then sits astride me. "Or-he, or-he!" he orders.
I am not going to encourage this, but Nick is a sucker for these special, fleeting moments and starts singing: "Horsey, horsey, don't you..."
"STOP" says Alec triumphantly.
Nick continues: "Just let your hooves go clippity-..."
"CLOP! Mummy sing," Alec says, bouncing up and down in a threatening manner.
We go on together. "Your tail goes swish and the wheels go..."
"ROUND. No more." And Alec rolls off and lies back down beside me for more nursing.

Book treasure, worn and speaker.

1. Finding treasure in the Oxfam bookshop. I only popped in to look for a card. 2. Bettany doesn't wear makeup out and about, but noneth...