Time And Toast


A disappointment with the cornflakes is soon forgot. Godson loves marmite and butter toast. He also loves Dog, who benefits from a slyly dropped crust. We make plans to view some cows (not many of those wander through his city life) and go off the path adventuring in the woods. He has a sonic screwdriver and I have some pruning shears. For now though I drive my houseguests into the wet slap of a small February town, leave them to continue the rounds of visits and I'll get them back all dizzy and in need of a rest tomorrow.
All the spare bedding is persuaded back into the airing cupboard, a tangled solid mess that makes me feel like I've just hidden a body.
There's a suitcase in my front room, a gauzy cerise bow wrapped at the handle to make it easy to locate from a train's luggage stackpoints. Several times this morning I look up from typing and smile at it.
And then work time appears on the clock: the day has been swallowed up as crafty and swift as Dog took the crust.


'One crust? I'll just lie here, wasting away.'

Comments

Suze said…
I love the caption, Lils. :)
14 February 2013 at 00:48
Lisa Southard said…
Dog has a good humour about her that inspires Great Silliness :-)
14 February 2013 at 01:02
The Cranky said…
Great silliness is a gift, whether it comes from two-legged or four-legged friends.
14 February 2013 at 06:26
Loree said…
What a good-looking dog. I love the part at the end about the day being swallowed up because it's so true.
14 February 2013 at 21:26
Lisa Southard said…
Thank you Loree- I will pass your compliment on to Dog. Finding my days being devoured far too rapidly this week: even think I have some kind of indigestion!!
15 February 2013 at 10:34
Lisa Southard said…
Jacqueline: we are lucky: we got both kinds here! xx
15 February 2013 at 10:35
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