Sunday, January 27, 2013

Accident, party and cake.

1. There was a bang and a motorcyclist flew across our field of vision. Someone cried out. He came to rest half-on and half-off the pavement. After the staff from the vets had told him to lie still and covered him in pet blankets; after I had looked into his face and worried about hurting his pride by telling the 999 dispatcher that he was in his forties "or perhaps 30s"; after an ambulance had elbowed its way through the traffic; after the police had come to take over -- that moment when we watched two paramedics help him to his feet.

2. At this birthday party they have put out toys in a vast sports hall. To see Alec taking pleasure in the space. To see him getting excited and to let him shout and run without having to ask him to calm down and use a gentle voice.

3. "Cakey all gone," says Alec very sadly. I explain that they've cut it up for the party bags. I don't think he really believes me until we get home and I let him loose on the tiny treats. Once he has eaten the cake, a stretchy man is very popular, and the bubbles.