Saturday: begins with finding a butterfly in a newly opened sunflower. A day in which one drives a loop of town hoping for a free space, settles for a car park, finds the pay machine is out of order. Pennies earmarked for parking are counted over to the proprietor of the second hand bookstore, the remainder buys an avocado.
On walking Dog, a tennis ball is un-lodged from a hedge; wild strawberries and meadowsweet grow; ransoms and red clover offer up ripe seeds. A swimming costume is found in the shoulder bag underneath the unneeded raincoat; there's a stretch of water clear of rocks. Swimming with Dog, upriver. Skin shivers, damply redressed, jumps old storm felled trees to warm up.
Home to show Mr foraged goods, and how a poppy has appeared in the vegetable patch.
A granddaughter is brought, tired, with cake to share.
'Did you have fun at the party?'
'We played football and chasin-' she prods the icing. 'I don't love blue. I love pink. And brown. And purple. And…'
'Yes. Of course!' She takes up a look of contemplating an existence in which she prefers matte blue, followed closely by an amused snort.
Clouds mass. Forecast rain may fall tomorrow.
Night arrives, thick with colour, heavy, heated.
Sunday: begins with finding Cat sneaking out of the office where Little Grandaughter's cot is set up. She is awake, pointing at a turd pile.
'I didn't do that,' she states.
Downstairs it transpires that the house is so dirty it must actually be cleaned, and Dog has three big ticks to be unhooked from her head. There are only three slices of bread left. Little Granddaughter is certain she will eat two of them.
While the washing is hung up, Cat sneaks onto the pallet table to lick peanut butter from neglected toast: is promptly expelled from the garden by demonic shriek.
|Soothing picture of river :-)|