tiny insane satisfactions
of finishing this, getting that done.
The last lines of a tiny poem by a German poet of the 1930s...
T'car has working locks on all doors now. But no immobiliser. Win some, lose some. I worked out who it was I was dreaming about. Our neighbours are on their last skip and said would I like to put some of our dreck on it and I have just carried out the relevant dreck and pitched it in. Another neighbour came around and said she was so sick of looking at the collection of boxes that she could help me with it, which I thought was fair do's and said, yes. I have sorted out the collection for the nursery, dealt with a bunch of bid'ness, returned the empty ravensara bottle for a full one, bought Child his bathfluff, and disguised leek, broccoli and potato puree with cream as Leptoceratops soup, which he ate [Devious Mummy Award], along with hamburger, which is not Meat; finally, I recognised that Meat means roasts in his lexicon. Child went to bed Very Late, but hey, once in a blue moon; he went to bed having had a fluffy bath for the first time in about six months. Yay me for remembering and keeping that promise. Four pairs of small wide shoes for the refugees delivered. Hair cut. Fence mended on a friendship or two.
'II is out seeing his little brother and The Greyhound Lioness. She really is something; sloe-eyed, dark-haired, lissome, slender. And nice with it, so far. With the wrong chap she could end up brittle and conventional, but I think she has the right chap and they'll do fine.
We had a Night Out for 'II's works do and the next evening Child asked "Did you have a nice time at the restaurant while I was at home with my babysitter, Mummy amd Daddy?" Three going on 45.
The last lines of a tiny poem by a German poet of the 1930s...
T'car has working locks on all doors now. But no immobiliser. Win some, lose some. I worked out who it was I was dreaming about. Our neighbours are on their last skip and said would I like to put some of our dreck on it and I have just carried out the relevant dreck and pitched it in. Another neighbour came around and said she was so sick of looking at the collection of boxes that she could help me with it, which I thought was fair do's and said, yes. I have sorted out the collection for the nursery, dealt with a bunch of bid'ness, returned the empty ravensara bottle for a full one, bought Child his bathfluff, and disguised leek, broccoli and potato puree with cream as Leptoceratops soup, which he ate [Devious Mummy Award], along with hamburger, which is not Meat; finally, I recognised that Meat means roasts in his lexicon. Child went to bed Very Late, but hey, once in a blue moon; he went to bed having had a fluffy bath for the first time in about six months. Yay me for remembering and keeping that promise. Four pairs of small wide shoes for the refugees delivered. Hair cut. Fence mended on a friendship or two.
'II is out seeing his little brother and The Greyhound Lioness. She really is something; sloe-eyed, dark-haired, lissome, slender. And nice with it, so far. With the wrong chap she could end up brittle and conventional, but I think she has the right chap and they'll do fine.
We had a Night Out for 'II's works do and the next evening Child asked "Did you have a nice time at the restaurant while I was at home with my babysitter, Mummy amd Daddy?" Three going on 45.