I had an email from a friend this evening, apologising in advance if she becomes a bit unreliable in weeks to come, as from now on she’ll be looking after her 2-year-old granddaughter. I don’t know her son or daughter-in-law but there’s obviously something very wrong. I sent a supportive email back of course, aiming to be sympathetic and available but not asking questions she may not feel like answering, but I’m so sorry about the situation. I hope whatever the problem is, it sorts itself out without lasting damage, and at least, by taking the little girl out of the situation, Granny has done all she can to limit distress.
On a different note entirely, dearest Jen is finally off. She, her other half and her third half – their little daughter – are off to make a new life in the jungle in Belize. They’ve been wanting to do this as long as I’ve (virtually) known them but, unlike most of us, they’ve quietly planned their exit (should that be exeunt?) and taken the final step, leaving behind all that passes for life as we live it.
The Sage arrived home safely and has just toddled off to bed, where he’ll find I’ve turned on the blanket already. Love appears to be measured by the warmth of the bed in this house. Pugsley was terribly excited when the Sage arrived home, and shot straight off to the table where he’d put some leftover toasted teacake which his mother had given him for the bantams. He fed Tilly, too. He is very fond of animals, and loves to watch them eat.
Squiffany and I played shoe shops today. I’ve never got into that sort of imaginative play myself, being singularly lacking in that quality, but she loves it. We took it in turns to be shopkeeper and customer. Both children had a good bounce on my bed, too. Then we went downstairs, read stories and watched The Simpsons. Al has recently bought a DVD of early (original) Star Trek episodes. Squiffany loves them and is looking forward to watching them with Ro. She’ll hold his hand if there are any scary moments and explain who all the characters are.
Aaaw! I feel all warm and squidgy now.
I like it: love is… putting on the electric blanket. But what if one forgets?
How odd that only men (so far) have commented on this Love is… post.
I can’t think of anything to add, mind you. My mind must be distracted with romantic thoughts.
Three swallows seem to make a summer, Dave.
If one forgets, there are other ways of making the bed warm if I remember rightly, Dotterel.
Sir B, you romantic thing, you.
Well, it is nearly spring, when a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of this nature, as Alfred tells us.
I quite like a warm bed too…or are we talking about something else?
I’m putting my cloche on my raised bed, to warm the soil. That’s all I know about the subject.
I don’t think it’s quite all you know, Dave.
Oh it’s about gardening is it?