Some bloggers are very good about recounting their daily lives. In fact, for many it is their staple blogging fayre. I admit that I am not so good at this kind of blogging. I tend to branch out into poetry, photo walks, memories, current affairs, films and books etcetera. Making ordinariness a pleasure to read about is quite a talent in my view.
This evening I can't think of anything else to write about so let's go for the everyday- mundanity, ordinariness - call it what you will.
Shirley and I had to look after Little Phoebe for three days this week because she had contracted impetigo. She probably picked it up at the nursery school but because it is infectious they wouldn't allow her to attend her day sessions. The poor little mite was quite poorly with it and out of sorts with herself. She had an unpleasant rash above her chin but this has now largely cleared up thanks to antiseptic ointment.
She likes to sit on my knee as I show her YouTube videos of children's songs - often with cartoon characters. Through her I have encountered a children's TV clown called Mr Tumble who stars in plenty of BBC videos. At the moment Phoebe loves a counting song called "Ten Apples On My Head". It's American and until ten days ago I had never come across it. She rocks and claps her hands wrapt in concentration for a few minutes.
On Thursday night, Shirley was at her monthly Women's Institute meeting so I settled down to watch a really good film on BBC 4 - "If Beale Street Could Talk" based upon a novel of the same name by James Baldwin. It was a tender, well crafted piece of cinema which spoke with resignation about the insidious rhythms of racism experienced by urban blacks in America.. Though the driver's lash is no longer cracked and trembling girls no longer stand on auction blocks, there are plenty of other ways in which they can get you if you happen to be black. Above all, "If Beale Street Could Talk" is a love story with Tish played by KiKi Layne and "Fonny" played by Stephan James.
Yesterday a tree surgeon called Lee came to see us. Some time in the not too distant future, he is going to be taking down our forty foot horse chestnut tree. It is thirty five years old and was grown from a conker that my son picked up when he was a three year old boy. I plan to save some of the wood for carving and making cutting boards. Perhaps I should have planted it some place else all those years ago. It's amazing how it has grown.
Of course there has been grocery shopping to do and meals to make this week. Last night for example, it was sirloin steak with baked potatoes, green beans and broad beans, fried onions and mushrooms with grilled tomatoes. And there were rugby matches to watch - France beating Wales and England losing to Ireland but at least on the football front my team managed to pick up a point at Birmingham City on Saturday afternoon.
Well, that's me - attempting to capture a sense of my everyday life - domesticity. Clearly I need more practice in this sphere if I am going to develop a comfortable, conversational tone. I must try harder and maybe I will make another effort pretty soon. I am very sorry if you were bored.