Today:
Only this morning I knew exactly what to write: held it
just as clearly as if it had been written down. Somewhere in the day it has
slipped from memory, is lying somewhere metaphysical, ink blurring in soft
rain.
Yesterday:
'Dance Nam-ma! It's a man-an-a-tar!' Little Granddaughter demands as we walk past the
busker at the low end of Plymouth. After this exertion we eat pasties and two
buses collide on Royal Parade. The accident had been there all along, a man
says; it was waiting to happen. Nam-ma extrapolates that therefore it is a
happy accident, being fulfilled: but one should not wait to happen, as a rule.
My daughter loves that ride in the last pic.
ReplyDeleteI'm ruminating on your words. I think I have to read them a few more times for the message to sink into my thick skull. :)
My son is the boy with arms outstretched, he loves it too! The first time he went on such a contraption, he staggered off quite ill. Result of a previous over indulgence on a doughnut stand. Still keen for another go. If an urging stomach doesn't put you off, you must love it :-)
ReplyDeleteHappy when my words help xx