In the summertime

Isn't sunshine lovely? It makes for one of those early summersky days that never, for one moment, ruffles any of my emotional extremes.

It's one of those days that I like to drink a cup of tea in peace and quiet. Then it feels a bit like living in a dreamydream summertime where everything is warm and laid back and tranquil, and air takes forever to move around and caress you, and that is OK.

I possibly feel calm and unhurried because Shark is on a lake, sailing in blue sky and blue water. I mustn't forget to pick her up like we did yesterday.

I could be in this serene state because I have a very interesting book on the Stuarts, and I spend some of the day reading that, drinking tea, and nodding off.

Maybe because Dig is very quiet. He says he does not feel well, so my wife-nurse routine is required. I am a good wife-nurse. If I can be bothered, which I can't, I tut loudly, tut some more, act like he could get better only if he decided to, and comment that he doesn't have a womb that hurts, so where is the big deal? But today, I leave him alone and go and drink tea.

Then I wander off into the garden to find out what Squirrel and Tiger are doing. They have been very quiet too. So quiet in fact, that for most of the morning I imagine they must be out at an event, and I mustn't forget to pick them up later, if only I could remember where they are.

But they were in the garden.


There's my measuring jug. And, apparently, they must sieve all the soil in the garden through my sieve.


That's my sieve, too. My sieve. Just like the sieve I had in the kitchen and couldn't find yesterday. It was a sieve just like the one Squirrel's using now, to sieve 100 tons of soil in a very sievey way. Into my measuring jug.


I am about to comment in my cool and laid back way about the correct management of kitchen sieves and measuring jugs, when I spy this.


That is a brick filled with baby unicorn cake.

Isn't it delightful? Maybe I am dreaming. Things become a little vague. Unicorns are involved. Here are two unicorns. They live in holes in the ground outside. Once, maybe years ago, I banished them from the house after unruly behaviour and late night singing.


I am told that these days Lem is a printer, but he lost the print and was taken to court. He was prosecuted for losing the print, but he argues it was unfair dismissal. He forced his unicorn relatives to sign a petition and get him his job back.

It all seems a little academic now I say, since last I knew he was hiding in a bush. He may of course be hiding from Moonbeam, says Squirrel. Moonbeam is fed up with his harassment. Well what of Blutina? Blutina is a betrayer, says Squirrel. She was last seen looking at a unicorn dating agency when she was engaged to Misty.

There is so much more, but the explanation of where my measuring jug and sieve fits into all of this is stopped abruptly by the discovery of unicorn poo.


And some bricks dismantled from my barbecue, a plank of wood and an ambulance stretcher.


We might need the ambulance stretcher by the time we reach the steps thanks to the dismembered electronic apparatus and the trip hazards.


At this point, I think maybe it is better to go back inside to lie down on the sofa, because I would like to preserve my unperturbed and unfazed gaze on this cloudless summertime day a little longer yet.

I will just say that all is well and everything looks very educational, and tut tut tut never mind you are not feeling better yet, even though my womb hurts more than yours. You could fetch Shark from the lake while I finish my very interesting book on the Stuarts, lie down, and drink another very nice refreshing, soothing cup of summertime tea.

I can thoroughly recommend it every time with a dash of brandy.