i-want-more

Morrissey, a Doris Stokes for our time

The first verse of Panic seems somewhat prescient given recent events.

Anyhoo, onto real stuff. JJ and me went back to where I grew up on the weekend, in the South-West of England (Mid Devon, to be exact). I had a mostly OK time, although the weather was appalling.

Took Niece number two's children, AKA the Godchildren and/or The Small Monkeys, to the beach at Exmouth on Saturday. We had been at a wedding in the same town about six weeks ago - we spent a pleasant break between the meal and the evening reception messing about in the arcades and enjoying the sunshine.

What a difference a bit of rain makes. It was so grim, that even the kids wanted to go home, which is most unlike them. So that's what we did.

We had lots of questions about what it's like to be up here in the face of all the bombings and so forth. To which we mostly said - there's no point in trying to be careful, because you can't be careful. You have to be lucky.

Mum was on relatively good form. A lot of cake was eaten.

Was surprised to see Kipling's If on the wall of Sister number two's downstairs toilet. This struck me as sort-of incongruous, but I was pleased to see it nonetheless. Given the troubles she's been going through recently, I wonder if this piece of poetry has given her some comfort...I hope so.

posted by deafdisco @ 10:30 am