I miss my boy and I miss having Constance around as well. ffice On Friday we went to the Brackenbury in Hammersmith to say good-bye in style. Once again The Boy proved once again that he is not really a kids menu sort of a child by opting for the sea bass with salsify, spinach and baby onions and fish fumet and declaring it yummy. We took the tube (Piccadilly line) and a young girl took a shine to Constance and mistaking her for our 15 year old daughter started a weird one way conversation (I did not know I looked old enough to have a teenage daughter – mental note to investigate creams claiming to make you look younger). The lack of answers did not seem to disturb her in the slightest. So in the course of a very long 10 minutes we learned that we are way cool to have let Constance have her eyebrow pierced, that she should not go to Soho because it’s full of dodgy men who are after young girls and would pimp her in a minute because they just think anybody is up for it, that she likes The White stripes and that you have to be careful because of terrorists and that she thought her brother was one. Tube journeys can be so enlightening. Every single one reminds me of why I tend to avoid it. It seems to carry more weirdoes than the average bus or train. On Saturday we all went to Waterloo and Him Indoors admitted his throat tightened a bit when he saw The Boy disappear through the door with his suitcase in tow. Constance called us when they got to Paris and everything was fine (nothing like a packed lunch on the Eurostar to keep little boys happy). The latest news from my mum is: the Boy is having a whale of a time with his grandparents and seems to have acquired a pair of roller skates during his stay at Constance’s parents at the week-end. Her little brothers have introduced him to new games like ‘lets build traps out of fruit boxes to catch chicken’ and ‘lets play Joan of Arc with worms’ and ‘lets take the baby rabbits to the bedroom so we can play with them’. Since then my father has relocated the box of matches – a purely precautionary measure of course. All the plans we laid about what we were going to do while The Boy was away have shrunk. Operation update the upstairs toilet has ground to a halt as Him Indoors is ploughing through increasing amounts of coursework and revisions. The office has become a no go area for me as his work is spread about on the desk. I could have got more of the gardening done or maybe finished the tiling upstairs but I cannot seem to shake off the remains of the winter lack of drive. Anyway, Him Indoors has more coursework to do tonight so I am going out with Kim. We will be celebrating Philippa’s latest arrival (a little girl) and catching up with gossip. Should be fun. Better check the train times to Windsor…
Home nearly alone
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7.4.04 11:28
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(7.4.04 20:32) I see, so My new loo and bathroom are due to go in on Monday and you are having yours done, I am having a weekend off form Rugby you are having a weekend off rugby, My friend is expecting Octavior in a next month your friend has had hers, what next, please tell me you have woken up having lost 2 stone wihtout dieting or turning the dial back ( I live in hope) |
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(9.4.04 11:20) The buses in your area are more wierdo-free than the ones in mine. Ah - Brackenbury - missing the place dearly. |
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(11.4.04 23:25) Sorry princess no sign of weight loss on the horizon. J. Our buses have weirdoes too, only they are marginally less weird than tube weirdoes. |
