October 2, 2012 by kitcac
I went to the cemetery today to put some flowers on my grandad’s grave. I wasn’t roller-skating though, it had been raining and there were a lot of leaves on the ground and this is a different cemetery that doesn’t have such smooth tarmac. So its not really roller-skating territory. If you don’t understand what I’m on about, read my “Things I Have Realised” post which you will find over there ->
I took some hydrangeas from my front garden with me.
Over the summer, the flowers on the hydrangea bush in the front garden are a really girly pink colour – yuck, girly pink! In the back garden they are a deep purple – yay for acidic soil!
But I love the front garden flowers when autumn comes because they turn a deeper pink, which is almost red. Much nicer than big girl’s blouse pink.
JWop likes flowers too. I love that he already loves nature. I can’t wait to go looking for creepy bugs and gross things with him, because I’m weird like that. Apart from slugs. I hate them. They make me vomit.
The downside to his love of nature is that I can’t sit on the sofa and watch Jeremy Kyle on TV while I feed him. Oh no, he cries if I do that because he wants me to sit next to the patio doors so he can look at the trees. Great stuff!
I let JWop hold one of the flowers on the way and he was intrigued by it. He was smiling away at his bunch and shoving his face in them, just lovin’ it! On the way back home, I felt bad so I let him keep one and he fell asleep holding them in his big chubby hand.
Looking back, the banana that he’d squished in his hands earlier had probably formed a gluey paste and he might actually have wanted me to help him get the flowers away from him but he can’t talk. Ah well, he looked cute with his flowers.
Just before he fell asleep, a squirrel crossed our path. I just can’t help talking to him about stuff (I talk to myself like a mad woman doing a monologue in the street).
That in itself wouldn’t be so bad if I could find appropriate things to say to him about the things we see.
But no. I see a squirrel and I don’t say “oooh look at his bushy tail” or “oooh, he’s run up the tree to his drey” (you can tell I just googled squirrel’s house, can’t you). No, no, no.
I’m in a cemetery and I see a squirrel so the natural response is say to the baby “Why does a squirrel swim on its back? TO KEEP HIS NUTS DRY!”
And then I walked home laughing to myself. Mad woman indeed.