Dreaming of sunshine
WE have two big piles of scrap paper in the house that feed the children’s endless appetite for drawing, painting, cutting and scribbling. They comprise old drafts, bits of post and other odd sheets of paper, so there is often a surprise in store when you turn them over. This is particularly true at present, because we are working our way through the pages of an old calendar. It used to hang low enough for the children to scribble notes on it. Some are illegible, some incomprehensible—october 2, for example, is mysteriously inscribed ‘submarine’. And a few record events now happily forgotten: October 6, ‘I vomit. Very sick’.
One thing I realise is that it’s implicit from some of these annotations that the children thought that work for grown-ups ended at the same time as the school term. It’s not an illusion they labour under any more, but this weekend, as I mulled over this record of the recent past, I found myself wishing it were true. Spring has arrived. The lime tree on the corner is blushing green and the cherry blossom is beginning to burst forth in improbable profusion. Let’s hope the sunshine lasts until Easter. I’m longing for some aimless time outdoors. JG