I purled an entire row without noticing. Usually I have to concentrate on each stitch. There’s something about it I find really awkward, unwieldy and counter intuitive. Today at the park, sat in the sunshine, I watched Ida trying to climb up the shinning pole and purled a row without paying attention.
I also pushed a pen across a blank page. I definitely found joy in it – but not the twenty odd precocious kids who said over my shoulder, “what’s that? – it’s not very good…” go back to your alcopops and baby bottles full of coke precious ones.
The ring of grime left round the bath after scrubbing Ida – she had a very satisfying afternoon at the park.
Zeph telling us the story of Echo and Narcissus on the way to the cinema since we’ve banned the Pokemon word. Turns out his knowledge of greek myths is as extensive as that of the japanese merchandising menaces.
I secretly bought a felting needle while we were out – can’t wait to examine it and maybe try it out. I have completely lied to Steve about how much it was… he could tell as well. I saw him smirking into his beard.
As I type this I can hear Ida scampering around upstairs. In a years time I will hardly remember the bedtime wrestling. Time goes by so quickly. I shall not sweat this small stuff. I resolve to reread some Richard Carson.
They smelled of shampoo and clean pj’s as we all curled up for bedtime stories. At the end of one Ida tells us she likes blue kangaroo but she loves ‘Dillo. Steve and I exchange a look of love over their bent heads. I feel in accord with the world.