Liking

What I like, today:



1. Finding a little patch of unexpected primrose.

2. Going mad planting far too many seeds. I call it spring time optimism. My new thrilling adventure this weekend will be making nettle or comfrey sludge. Or fertiliser, or feed. Whatever. I am going to try it. Or to be precise, persuade my dh he would really like to.



3. The bonding camaraderie on the roads felt when driving and someone flashes to let you know a speed camera is just around the bend. Usually on the roads everyone slower than you are idiots and faster - well of course they are maniacs. You of course are the only true sane, safe driver.

4. Seeing the different responses I get when out and about with Esmé in the sling. Men pretty much don't even bat an eye (ever notice that once you have children you become non existent to most men?) but women, well, some older women coo and chat and just are so old that a touch of a baby is like an elixir, you can see it working it's magic. Others gush about the wonders of carrying your baby like that, so close, so content, so snuggly. They wax lyrical about it. That bit is great. Then there are the slightly younger women who you kind of feel might already have older children - some look hungrily at you in that still-having-menstrual-cycles-so-still-have-baby-lust way. Some frown a bit as if they disapprove of the baby so tucked up and happy while you have your hands free to carry groaning bags or hold another child's and you suspect they didn't use a sling and had a trickier time when out and about with their own kids. Then there are the much younger pre-childbearing females - some like the men don't bat an eye at you, others smile, Isn't that the cutest thing! Babies are soooo cute! Then a minute later are gushing the same way over a hairband. Some have started to feel those womanly twangs some where deep and have that shy longing and look long and hard at you and your baby, drinking you in, storing away the picture of the mama-baby duo. I love wearing Esmé, she is getting big but when against me, she feels so small. I love that too.

5. Being taken by surprise by the view of a grey stone house, chimney spouting a plume of smoke against the foot of a lime green hill. Wind raking a blossom tree sideways parallel with the smoke, both leaning into a yellow tree. Purple slates on the roof. Sky white washed.

6. Someone asking if I like their 'im-bol'. Well yeah, I guess I do (thinking crazily hard around a small boys' lispy-speech - what's an 'imbol?') Yeah I like your dimple I say, taking a risk. No! It's an IMBOL!!! oh, yeah, an imbol, crazy Mummy. Temple! It's a temple! I guess wildly again. Another boy chimes in with a sigh. Symbol. It's a marzipna symbol of a boy. Why of course. I should have known that.



7. Chocolate brownies. Big slabs, fudgy, silky texture. Heaven tastes like chocolate brownies; smooth with a slight crisp above.

8. Wool. Lots of it. Multi coloured, soft, coiled, sprung and both heavy and light with potential in the soft bag against my thigh as I walk.

9. Blue Eyes. Espeically hers.