Matchstick people

Up early and working this morning. I showed Lorraine something I've written, as I have discovered that her instincts are spot on. Importantly she was also able to pacify the cat for an hour.

Poor Anna, who still has pleurisy, has had to go up to the Midlands as her grandmother had a stroke. So Lorraine and I spent the afternoon in Hove park with Anton and the kids. It was like walking into an LS Lowry picture, with lots of dogs, and people dotted about, and all of us small under the glorious September sun.

After a picnic, with Oskar alarmingly fitting an entire boiled egg into his mouth,we watched the children as they clambered about on slides etc. Felt that now-familiar rage when any other little kid barged Oskar on the slide. Good thing I'm not a parent. While I was monitoring Oskar, one little kid who must have been about three and a half introduced himself like a 40year old. His name was Joshua Wilson, and showed me some little rubber balls, and held them out to Oskar, and said "Oskar," (he had heard me encouraging the boy down slides) "I've got three, and you can't have them." Nice.

Ages since I'd kicked a ball around the park with jumpers for goalposts. Ghosts of my childhood running among us too.

Then Martin, and Nicki who I'd met last week, showed up too with their respective kids to join the free for all. Once the kids were exhausted we all squeezed back in Anton's car to our various homes. I went for a swim, and finally the pool is warm again. Home for a quiet evening, hanging with the kitten, who is now eating like a pacman, and whose sneezes are rare. Her new found liveliness is better than ever, judging by the hatching of fresh scratches on the back of my hand.

Below Lorraine and Calliope, and Oskar in the park.