Wewereallyoungonce, looking for adventure

It’s great to see blue cloudless skies, Feel the welcome warmth of the sun, Trees resplendent in glorious green, The blackbird’s song when day is done; Bright flowers in profusion everywhere,

Smiling folk along the way, Let’s enjoy the countless pleasures,

Of each lovely summer’s day.

JOE had been sitting in the airport coffee shop, in sight of the arrivals gate and was people-watching.

“All those busy, important people, flying in and out, travelling the world for business or pleasure, some dressed casually and some in uniform, all criss-crossing the concourse like some precisely choreographed ballet.”

Then he heard a yell. Three-year-old Daniel had spotted his mum coming through the arrivals gate and ran wildly towards her.

“All I could imagine was that someone would trip over him. But all those important people on their important missions stopped, cleared a way and smiled.”

For a three-year-old, there is no more important journey than the road to mum – and bless all those older hearts who remembered that! THERE’S an interesting class that takes place in our local coffee shop.

Lisa and Elaine are young mums who recently started college. They met to look at course work over a coffee – and that’s when they got talking to Elsa.

She told them that when she was their age there was no possibility of going to college, so she was curious about what they were learning. She also told them that she was three years widowed after 50 years of marriage.

Since then, they have met up every week. The college course continues but it’s not the main topic of conversation.

Mostly, the younger women quiz the older one on a life spent being a wife and mother.

Elsa thinks she is too old to go back to college (although I disagree) but it seems she’s not too old to be an excellent teacher!

The men are replacing the old fence between my garden and my neighbour’s.

There’s a hole in the old fence and I’ve asked them to leave a gap, in the same place, in the new one.

You see, a threeyear-old boy lives next door and, on nice days, he likes to wear a path through

ANNIE told me her three-year-old son Archie was playing with paper plates, plastic straws, coloured card and sticky tape.

When she asked him what he was making he replied: “A joyful idea!”

Now, neither Annie nor I are very sure what a home-made joyful idea would look like, but if anyone could make one, it would be a three-year-old.

Then the rest of us could copy how they did it.

And, when he is finished with that, perhaps wee Archie can make us some world peace out of Play-doh! his mother’s flowers to that point, then come through and talk to the cats who gather there and the dog who lives there.

When the strawberries and raspberries appear, I

imagine he will come through more often.

The workmen, when I explained, looked a little confused.

But the foreman – who must once have been a boy himself – read the situation perfectly and added: “Magical things, holes in fences. Gateways to adventure.”

I couldn’t have put it better, myself.

I’D stopped by to wish Darren well before the funeral, and was amazed to find he had a houseful of “strangers.”

Except, they were only strangers to me. They had all been in rehab at the same time several years ago. Now they were gathering for the funeral of a friend who had died in an accident.

Darren and his wife were happily supplying breakfast and a place to rest.

I was impressed that Darren had been so successful in leaving his addiction behind. But I was even more impressed that he hadn’t left behind the people who had made that journey with him.