Saturday, July 12, 2014

Advice, falling in and no meaning.

1. When I bring Bettany downstairs in the morning she is not happy at all. She grizzles and grumps and cries.
"If you feel like crying," Alec tells her in a sympathetic voice, "do this." He covers his ears with his hands and rubs them vigorously. "It'll make you feel much better."

2. We've quarrelled and woken Bettany. Instead of going home we end up, by disagreeable accord, walking in sullen silence round the block hoping to get her back into a properly deep sleep. I reach out and ruffle Alec's hair. A moment later he asks about a poster in a window.

2. We examine a forked stick in the middle of the path. "I think it's saying to go that way," says Alec.
"I think it means the other way," I say.
"Or it could just be a stick that fell in the road," he says.

Coffee, right there and advent calendar.

1. The coffee this morning is very tasty. There is no particular reason that we can discern. Perhaps we were just ready for it, and our bisc...