"Just having a drink and a bit of quiche, Em, then I think we'll have a walk out for a pint: are you game for a pint?" says Dad.
"I'm kinda tired" [said through my left hand; I'm sucking it 'cos there's a small hole where I pushed a knife, trying to slice a bouncy ball]
"You're getting tired?"
"I'm kind of tired."
"You've got your princess shoes on, why? Glittery ones."
"Dunno"
"Heh."
I am writing this now, after it happened, and I am wondering whether he thought I had anticipated being offered the pub and put my new shoes on especially. Did he think it was a clue? Can I find out?
Playfully, I am now going to walk along to the kitchen where he is moving cups, and get him to read this post ..to set up a little infinity on purpose.
Saturday, 31 March 2007
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We made it. A post a day for March. We have every reason to be proud, although it's a sin. I have a marginal fascination with shoes. The science of them as much as anything else. I've never delved very deeply, though. I don't like socks at all, but they're a necessary evil. And the days are long but the nights are longer. And tomorrow is a long time. And she had kisses sweeter than wine. Nothing but blue skies from now on.
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