Dear Diary, Today is another day. Jake is bored with his enforced inactivity, Karen's wedding plans are on the back boiler. Phil has no bikes to fix, and Niece is cooking, which is her way of avoiding conflict. Because the air is thick with angst today.
Greensmith and Redshaw have grown taking up too much space in the aquarium. The Pet Shop has a display of aquariums in their window, and I am in two minds to inquire the price of a larger model. Greensmith and Redshaw provide an oasis of peace in my small world as they swim around and around their home, long fronds of pond plants hiding them from view for seconds on end. Sometimes, when I stand and watch these two gold fish, I wonder if they are playing peek-a-boo with me. I know Dear Diary that skeptics imagine fish have no idea of games, but from my observation they are capable of playing.
With an atmosphere pervading the house today would be the day to go shopping at the Pet Shop. Not wishing to attract the attention of the others, I sneaked out the side door, trundled my tricycle down the side lane and out onto the street.
It was another wonderful day; ownership of this tricycle has added another dimension to my existence. I no longer rely on others if I wish to 'travel'. I consider myself to be of an age when I can choose what I do, and when.
I was not quite so happy with the raucous laughter of a group of schoolboys hanging around the shopping centre. They were obviously wagging school; and the packet they suspiciously hid when I came into view did look very much like a cigarette packet. I suppose their parents know they are not at school? It wasn't the fact that these boys were avoiding attaining an education; that is their business. I was not amused when the larger of the trio let out a cat call, followed by the comment, "Granny, I can see your knobby knees!"
I am not their Granny! Dear Diary, have the young of today no respect for the older generation?
Knobby knees? My knees were once one of my greatest assets, set as they are in the middle of a well-shaped ankle and slinky thighs. Often, whilst swimming at the local pool, admittedly several years ago, the male contingent that congregated near the diving board greatly admired my knees. That petty comment distressed me! Cycling in a skirt, even one with several gores, is not the easiest of skill to manage. The skirt tends to creep up, upsetting my balance when I pluck it down again. There is nothing for it, Dear Diary, I am buying a pair of trousers. Niece will have a fit! She is firmly against a lady of my years wearing trousers, which she insists are uncouth.
The Sports Shop has a huge array of cycling gear, but after a quick perusal I decided against lycra bike shorts, even though they do come in lime green, which would make me resemble Shrek. In a corner, and on a rack marked 'Special ~ Half Price today only' I noticed a pair of soft-blue, cotton track pants, the bottom of the legs pulled in with a darker blue band, and a matching three-quarter sleeve top. I tried them on. Yes! Dear Diary, they were made for me. Not wishing those boys to call unkind comments again, I had the young shop assistant place my skirt and blouse in their labelled plastic bag, which I pushed well into the basket on the tricycle.
Next stop was the Pet Shop. I am rather taken with the substantial oblong aquarium that will give Greensmith and Redshaw plenty of room to grow. Perhaps a few coloured pebbles for the bottom? Not wishing to carry them home, and not actually having the space to carry them home, I paid a deposit, promising to return to pick the aquarium up, and finalising the account.
Dear Diary, I wonder if the air has cleared at home?
Greensmith and Redshaw have grown taking up too much space in the aquarium. The Pet Shop has a display of aquariums in their window, and I am in two minds to inquire the price of a larger model. Greensmith and Redshaw provide an oasis of peace in my small world as they swim around and around their home, long fronds of pond plants hiding them from view for seconds on end. Sometimes, when I stand and watch these two gold fish, I wonder if they are playing peek-a-boo with me. I know Dear Diary that skeptics imagine fish have no idea of games, but from my observation they are capable of playing.
With an atmosphere pervading the house today would be the day to go shopping at the Pet Shop. Not wishing to attract the attention of the others, I sneaked out the side door, trundled my tricycle down the side lane and out onto the street.
It was another wonderful day; ownership of this tricycle has added another dimension to my existence. I no longer rely on others if I wish to 'travel'. I consider myself to be of an age when I can choose what I do, and when.
I was not quite so happy with the raucous laughter of a group of schoolboys hanging around the shopping centre. They were obviously wagging school; and the packet they suspiciously hid when I came into view did look very much like a cigarette packet. I suppose their parents know they are not at school? It wasn't the fact that these boys were avoiding attaining an education; that is their business. I was not amused when the larger of the trio let out a cat call, followed by the comment, "Granny, I can see your knobby knees!"
I am not their Granny! Dear Diary, have the young of today no respect for the older generation?
Knobby knees? My knees were once one of my greatest assets, set as they are in the middle of a well-shaped ankle and slinky thighs. Often, whilst swimming at the local pool, admittedly several years ago, the male contingent that congregated near the diving board greatly admired my knees. That petty comment distressed me! Cycling in a skirt, even one with several gores, is not the easiest of skill to manage. The skirt tends to creep up, upsetting my balance when I pluck it down again. There is nothing for it, Dear Diary, I am buying a pair of trousers. Niece will have a fit! She is firmly against a lady of my years wearing trousers, which she insists are uncouth.
The Sports Shop has a huge array of cycling gear, but after a quick perusal I decided against lycra bike shorts, even though they do come in lime green, which would make me resemble Shrek. In a corner, and on a rack marked 'Special ~ Half Price today only' I noticed a pair of soft-blue, cotton track pants, the bottom of the legs pulled in with a darker blue band, and a matching three-quarter sleeve top. I tried them on. Yes! Dear Diary, they were made for me. Not wishing those boys to call unkind comments again, I had the young shop assistant place my skirt and blouse in their labelled plastic bag, which I pushed well into the basket on the tricycle.
Next stop was the Pet Shop. I am rather taken with the substantial oblong aquarium that will give Greensmith and Redshaw plenty of room to grow. Perhaps a few coloured pebbles for the bottom? Not wishing to carry them home, and not actually having the space to carry them home, I paid a deposit, promising to return to pick the aquarium up, and finalising the account.
Dear Diary, I wonder if the air has cleared at home?
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