Ladybugs and owls

"So what does this person look like, anyway?" my husband asked me as we headed for the café where I’d arranged to meet Magpie.

"Tall, shifty, and looking as though she’d rather be someplace else, apparently."

"Hmm."

"Oh, yes – and her partner used to have a photo of her on his blog.  But I think he’s taken it down, because I couldn’t find it when I looked for it."  (Incidentally, either he’s sneakily put it back up again to confuse me, or else I am an idiot who can’t find a perfectly obvious link again on a webpage, since it was certainly there when I checked out the link just now.)

"Hair colour?"

"It was a black and white photo." (All right, so I am also an idiot who can’t remember whether a photo is in colour or not.")  "I think she had long straight hair.  So, given what my memory for faces is like, it was probably a tightly-curled perm."

"Bah."

Fortunately, Jo and Charlie were already there when we arrived, and accosted us with excited smiles and waves while we were still casting round looking for tall shifty-looking women.  Which is just as well, because Jo doesn’t look shifty in the slightest and I would never have recognised her from her description.  (She may well be tall, but since she was sitting down I didn’t particularly notice.  Besides, I live with a husband who is 6’4", which has reset my tallness perceptions to a whole different scale.)

And we had a wonderful time.  Well, I did, my husband did, and Jamie did (since the café had some decent toddler-appropriate toys and LOTS of good chairs and tables to climb on) and the other two certainly seemed to.  We talked about adoption, about blogging, about other bloggers, about random matters unrelated to the InterWeb.  It was a lovely relaxed get-together and I really hope we get to do it again at some not-too-distant point.

After which, my husband and I picked up a few things from the supermarket, headed home for lunch, and then drove to London to spend the rest of the weekend at my mother’s, being fussed over and cooked for and generally spoiled rotten.  And we found time for me to read her another couple of chapters of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.  (I love reading aloud and my mother loves being read to, so we spent years of my childhood working through Diana Wynne Jones and sundry others before lapsing when I went off to university.  Then, because the Harry Potter books were crying out to be read aloud, I started reading them to her on weekend visits home, and we’ve been working our way through the series for the past… oh, goodness, must be a few years by now.  It’s highly debatable which of us is enjoying the experience more.)

So – no profound thoughts on life, the universe or anything right now.  Just a really lovely relaxing weekend.

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2 Comments

Filed under Family values, My (anti)social life

2 responses to “Ladybugs and owls

  1. Jo

    Same here : ) Especially with the fab news from BLAS.
    I also love being read to so I’m addicted to the Oneword radio channel to fall asleep to. Martin Jarvis rocks.

  2. London grandmother

    Happy Birthday to my own dear more [much, much more]than goodenoughmummy.

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