Acorns on the soccer fields way

I have three acorns in a little dish on the desk between my screen and the great silver suitcase that is the engine-room of my G5 Mac. The acorns are from the sessile oak tree on the soccer fields way. I walked Bertie at around midday. It was hot. A warm, dry wind, not at all autumnal. I picked up a twig with oak leaves on it, to go with the acorns.

Enya the dog is here again, being babysat. I’ve just said goodbye to Marcus and Kirsty. A long, drawn-out Bathurst goodbye conducted on the front steps. Nobody in a hurry. I have a chesty cough and a croaky voice. I didn’t drive down to the Balmoral Bathers’ Pavilion cafe today to have lunch with Lou and Ian. So I was here when Kirsty turned up. We ate salad for lunch, with Marcus pretending to cook and re-cook his little Easter eggs in the dishwasher, which was his oven. He’d get them out and give them to us for our dinner. We weren’t to really eat the chocolates, just pretend. So we said, “nom nom nom nom nom.”

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