
Now as readers to this blog may remember, I don't really do kids. I love well adjusted, polite children, like Mike and Bev's Maisie, but I'll admit that after an hour or so, it is time for them to be given back quick sticks.
But I must say, James was quite delightful to show around. Bouncy, fascinated in each bird he came across, he soaked up the experience in a way that was quite touching to watch, and long after they had gone I found myself thinking what it would be like to actually HAVE a child.
Fantasy or not:-I know I could not cope with the constant "pull" a child would exert on our life, 63 feathered and furry surrogate kids fit my needs just fine and can exist quite healthily without your unwavering attention 24/7.
I guess the Buff chicks, a bald headed duck and a set of sweet. natured dogs amongst other "babies" tick my paternal box quite nicely in my needy middle age and I know that I am a little too selfish for the work a child would and does entail.
I called into the post office to post our complaint to the council at the proposed bungalow build this morning to be faced with a rather glum postmistress. The day before Jenny had planted out the set of rather battered window boxes of the shop, with flowers and plants from her garden. In a matter of hours some scummy kid had vandalised her work by ripping out daisies and geraniums, and I thought that this mindless but all-too-common destruction was such a sad sign of the times. I popped up to Jacksons and bought a couple of cheap boxes of bedding plants to supplement the damage, hoping that a bit of neighbourly support was the order of the day.


No comments:
Post a Comment
I love all comments Except abusive ones from arseholes