the product of a couple that still get on.
i've always known, despite the fact that they once went through a set of dishes and all the pyrex dishes in the house in each other's direction, that my folks still like one another.
They have conversations.
My mother points disdainfully at the ceiling from time to time coz she's too classy to flip my gobby dad the bird.
When I was little, I could never quite figure out what made my chain smoking beer drinking poppa ideal for my tee total, five veg a day mother.
i pondered it a lot.
I realised later of course that Billy Bragg is right about such things:
The temptation to take the precious things we have apart
To see how they work
Must be resisted for they never fit together again.
So basically, they've been married for absolutely yonkeroos.
And it still seems to working, much as they'd dearly love to throttle one another from time to time.
Or perhaps because they'd dearly love to.
i know that the people i've felt most for have struck me that way.
Quite what's prompting this school of reflection i don't know.
I've been to a lot of good weddings too.
But i'm pretty certain that it ain't for me.
Which people always say is because i haven't met the guy. Yawn.
i think i have. I think i met a couple of 'em.
What i'm really waiting for is someone to stick their neck out for me. A really long way.
Right under a guillotine really, just to prove that they totally mean it.
How selfish is that, when i totally play it safe to not bothered all the time?
I do love London. It was a complex affair and then it became simple over time, when i realised how complicated humans were.
i went on a date with my city on Saturday.
it was fabulous.
there were amazing views, a certain itimacy between us, unveiling of sights seldom seen (Borough Market at breakfast time), the buzz of Tate Modern, the siren of the coastguard on the thames, the sizzle of the pancake on the griddle, the spitting of the 12 year olds on the passed out drunk, the swish of the be-hatted ladies, the laughter of families, the smiling policemen posing for pictures, the endless drinkers of coffee and scoffers of cake, the sun peaking through the clouds and to top it off nicely, the St Matthews Passion randomly appeared on my ipod.