I smiled.

Tuesday, July 22

The other morning in the cafe, while I was wiping a table clean, I overheard a customer saying the word shenanigans to his son. 

‘He’s been up to his usual shenanigans...’

Shenanigans is a good enough word in itself (in fact, I’d forgotten all about it till I heard him using it. I want to try and slip it into a sentence soon). What made the word even better was the customer’s accent

He’s got a voice that sounds a little like Sean Connery (in that he prnounshesh hish wordsh like thish – by way of an exshplanashion). So the word actually came out like: she-nani-ginsshhh.

I smiled.

[These pictures are from my birthday earlier this month. While I wasn’t completely excited about turning 23 (I don’t feel tall enough to merit the age), I was glad about saying goodbye to being 22 (my least favourite year so far). And it was such a lovely day. 

Going to a Play, a Pie and a Pint at the Oran Mor, wandering round the Botanic Gardens, hearing the rain hissing on the glass roof (for just a few minutes), eating a delicious picnic that my Mum had wrapped in brown paper and string (Salad Niçoise tiger-bread baguettes; goats’ cheese, pecan and roast pepper sandwiches; hummus, tomato and avocado thins; Italian lemonade; Kettle crisps; strawberries...) 

...catching sight of a black butterfly with whispering wings, sitting on a picnic rug in the park watching wedding photographers, enjoying a big fried breakfast-for-dinner back at home (why not?). A day full of eating: my favourite sort.]

(Listening to Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps by Doris Day while writing this today.)

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