Plus ça change...

By SooB


I have had an irritant lurking at the back of my mind for months that somewhere in the house I had stashed some books I hadn’t read, and had put them in an illogical place. Tonight, looking for the Nora Chadwick book that Mr B had commended to me, I discovered the stash, entirely illogically in the ‘early history’ section of things. Serendipitously, my sewing case (which I had presumed missing in action) was there too.

Some unexpected, and unexpectedly interesting, work announced itself this morning. So there’s another 21st century learning curve for me (tracking pixels? Frankly I feel behind the curve on this.)

I spotted my neighbour weeding the courtyard mid morning and guilt (and a need for gardening of some sort) drove me out to join him. Brambles, defeated by chat and strong gloves. All interrupted by my gardener arriving to talk about electrical work. It is the way of things here!

Later, a community meeting about safety for the kids’ school bus stop was oddly discomforting, with our mayor (in one breath) assuring us of her concern for our kids’ safety, whilst stressing that if we make too much of a fuss when no kids have actually died yet then we may lose our school bus (a national obligation) altogether.

Strange times.

After picking up CarbBoy from basketball, we got home to the unmistakeable smell of TallGirl’s cooking (smoke). Dinner was all the more delicious for my having had nothing to do with it.

Later still, a call with Mr B. He is off for a trip on the high seas with another drunk man. We are studiously relaxed about this and are certain that he is coming home safe (I have made a pre-emptive donation to the RNLI just in case).

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