The Way I See Things


Early to bed

R and I had a good day with the Boy Wonder today, though there were times when his insistence on being given something he couldn't adequately describe or indicate, and his frustration at the grandparental failure to read his arm gestures and squawks, became (*whispering*) just the tiniest tad trying. But jollity and distraction on our part, and innate good humour on his, brought us through those tricky moments, and when he came to the door to give us a beaming wave as we were leaving, I was pretty confident that he was happy because he'd enjoyed our time together, rather than because he was relieved to see the back of us.

Over the course of the day we enjoyed duck feeding time at Forest Farm (only slightly marred by B managing to swipe the box of water fowl nuggets out of my hand and into the canal, from which I was fortunately able to retrieve it by means of a fallen branch); playing on the swings in the park (while complaining loudly about the council gardeners going past on their big ride-on mowers); gardening (followed by extremely messy hand washing at the kitchen sink and grandma needing to mop the kitchen floor); and various intricate little games of B's devising in the house. The funniest of these involved me sitting on the floor and him sitting sideways on my extended legs, while I built a tower of stacking cups in front of him to his peremptorily squawked instructions. ("He's a bit managerial, isn't he?" said R.) The smallest cup was placed on top of the stack by B, who would then stand up and do a little shimmying dance around the room ("He's doing his own Crash Bandicoot dance," said R), before sitting back down on my legs and knocking the pile of cups flying. And then (of course) rinse and repeat.

Despite the fun we had, I confess that I was pretty much in tatters by the time R and I got home, and looking forward to a light meal and a much earlier night than I've been getting recently. After dinner I took a little walk around the garden to check for interesting inverts, and when I found this rather ragged Orange Tip already bedding down for the night on a cow parsley umbel, I got a little frisson of fellow-feeling. I managed to capture this portrait without disturbing him from his roost, and I'm pretty confident that if I go back at 5am tomorrow he'll still be there (unless the kids rampaging round the wild garden overnight make it impossible for him to sleep) - but let's be honest, that theory is absolutely not going to be tested.

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