Sunday, 25 September 2011
Please don't go . . .
Summer, we love you.
What a beautiful patch of time this last few weeks has been. The manic re-greeningness of all plantage and the time of salad on the table prolonged.
Sadly, I have to leave the Mother Ship and travel back in Ryanair space pod to the grey rock tomorrow. What to take...? aqualung, moon boots? Actually the weather looks all right for the next few days, but I don't want to go all the same.
Going back to earlier blog re aging parents and the lack of a manual in this situation means an unknown and taxing two weeks, hopefully with highlights such as a bit of London nostalgia- wanderings and buying a bra in John Lewis. Wooo! Somehow the down to earth 'fittings people' in the underwear section don't trouble me as much as the stick-thin doll like assistants in lingerie shops over here. I don't think in fact one can say 'John Lewis' and lingerie in the same sentence . . . big white pants come to mind rather than lace-encrusted nylon cheese wire.
Anyway. What was I saying?
No, it will be good to see Mum, family, and to get a lot of things sorted out, but I hope there still might be a few sun soaked days left on my return.