Saturday 30 March 2013
One of the 78rpm records that I bring back to Suburbia Somnolenta is Vera Lynn’s I Don’t Want To Set The World On Fire; on the B-side is There’s A Land Of Begin Again.
Alongside the Old Man’s driveway, at the garage end of the border, two daffodils are perhaps a day away from blooming. A few other daffodils, of those that have emerged from under the snow, are budding.
When I drive off, a pale-blue Escargot — not the Ojays’ car, but another almost identical — is parked alongside the front lawn.
Seen on the way:
A two-year-old boy, walking hand-in-hand with his father ahead of me, who to his father’s amusement is trying to step only on the joins in the tiled floor.
An older mother, aged 40 or so, with grey-blonde hair, who is performing extraordinary contortions in accessing the rear seat of a three-door car. Her partner is in the driver’s seat, and she is clambering past the front passenger seat, so that she can attend to a baby in a carrycot mounted on the rear seat. Her posterior is protruding from the car, and under her jacket her top is riding up, revealing her bare waist. The car is of the same make and model as Mr NT’s car, but X-registration, and metallic-blue in colour.