A lovely, lazy Saturday - and there's even some sun! Spring, and globally warmed, too: over a brick wall there is a branch of a rosebush, with a strange, desultory half-opened baby rose bud on it. Yellow, dirtyish.
Anyway, we dozed half the morning till woken up by a resentful young person: "You two aren't awake!" - amid strange dreams. In due course, after coffee and laundry, the three of us walked down the road to the local cafe for a bit of lunch. Coming out after the banoffie pie, the young person in question - my partner's 14-year-old daughter - points to a shop sign across the road."Look, look!" Tones of disgust." They've got it all wrong, they've spelt - " then she sees it: Professionails. "Ohhhhhhh," she groans. "It's a PUN... it's a pun! I get it. Profession-nails, it's a..."
"What?" says her dad. "What was that?"
I am in the middle of explaining it to him, pointing across the road, when I see the little sign on the door of the cafe: "Wanted. Professonal writer."
This has been a wonderful week. I'm going to miss your posts here - I really love them. Guess I'll just have to bookmark Baroque in Hackney on my browser. :)
Posted by: Laura Orem | February 21, 2009 at 10:53 AM