Monday, August 23, 2010

Dear diary

On Saturday at netball Dean the truck-driving man loaned me the DVD It Might Get Loud, with Jack White, the Hedge and Jimmy Page. Good. Then I had to sit through two hours of small girls dancing. Less good. Much, much less good. It is one thing to watch one’s own child performing, quite another to watch countless others. I couldn’t even tell which one was mine as she was with eight or nine others all dressed as crocodiles. And the thing with crocodiles is, they all look the same.

On Sunday, we celebrated our wedding anniversary by visiting friends who have an orphan lamb, so the children could feed it. Then it was time for milking, so off to the cowshed we all went. There is a cowshed directly over the road from their school but this was the first time the children had got up close and personal with the business end of the dairy industry so it was all good, especially as we didn’t get shat on. Jerseys are politer than some I could mention. And then it was back to our friends’ for dinner. Lamb. It was beautiful, especially with mint sauce, but I couldn’t help thinking with every mouthful, “Have we met before? Like, earlier this afternoon?” Country people have a quirky sense of humour sometimes. 

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