A bit of local weather
A bit of a pulling-loose-ends-together post today. It is St Patrick’s Day and nothing will prevent me from raising a glass of Guinness later, at the umpteenth Irish dancing performance of the week. The girls have taken to jigging and reeling like I would never have believed: they have the soft shoes, the hard shoes, the poodle socks – in fact everything but the curly wig and the rhinestone encrusted dress…
It’s been a busy and intense few days, but thoroughly enlivened by the visit of the Wray Barton Wrecking Crew, or perhaps their new incarnation of the Wary Barton Wrecking Crew. The fabulous steak pie was devoured in largely reverential silence by my starving family, who are sadly inured to the Mother Hubbard approach to meal-making. Work has been busy and demanding and there is still yet more to do. Where the time will come from I am not certain. When I am in a fix, I ask it to elasticate itself for me… generally it obliges but then it pings back suddenly and subsequently rushes by, which I suppose is necessary otherwise it would snap. Imagine if my request for the occasional elastication of time to my convenience snapped it for the rest of you!
Of course that could not happen. The passage of time is entirely down to our own perception, and we can all do whatever we wish with it. Isn’t it marvellous?
Anyway, here’s the weather. As Dorothy Parker said, ‘They tire of quiet, that have known the storm.’