This time last week the Youngest of the Darling Daughters and I were sitting in a local café where she was treating me to a latte and a toasted tea cake. You can tell it was a Real Treat because we were having a
whole toasted tea cake each. Usually, in the interests of feeling virtuous, we share our tea cake. Or our scone or, occasionally, a slice of flapjack. This is Just What We Do.
We take a seat in the window, because my daughter knows that I like to look out at people passing by. This is called People Watching. Or, perhaps more accurately, Being Nosey. A window seat is the ideal place for both.
Unfortunately there is an issue with the door. In order to close it against the elements, the person or persons either entering or exiting needs to give the door a good push until it gives a satisfying
click which indicates that it won’t swing open again. Quite a few of the people coming in, or going out don’t seem to understand this basis piece of engineering. Every time someone leaves the door open, the Youngest of the Darling Daughters jumps
up to slam it shut again. “This might not have been the best place to sit,” she comments, mildly.
We do have a Support Act. A very kind fella,
sitting somewhere behind us, takes turns with my daughter in closing the door. We exchange smiles to indicate our mutual desire to keep the heat in and the cold out. We are Comrades in Arms against the Elements.
My daughter and I play a game in which we try to decide which of the people entering, and which of them exiting will close the door behind them or leave it swinging open. We are right about 50% of the time. It turns what might
have been a rather annoying time into a cause for laughter. This is what I like about spending time with this daughter - it’s not about what we do, exactly, but how we are able to turn just about anything to our advantage.
Later that evening we drive to the Chichester Festival Theatre where we have tickets for the musical of “Calendar Girls” , the latest of our “theatre dates.” It is a pretty
horrid journey, travelling through the wind and rain and I feel bad that my daughter, having driven seventy miles to see us, is at the wheel. She says, stoutly, that she wouldn’t have it any other way. Outside the theatre, we try to take the traditional
selfie outside, against the backdrop of a Calendar Girls billboard but it’s too dark and we end up with a photo of two black shadows. They don’t even look like us.
Coincidentally it is a year this week since the Youngest of the Darling Daughters accompanied me on a rather different “theatre date” to the operating theatre at St Richard’s Hospital where my Problem Shoulder was going under the knife
(such a very theatrical expression, I’m sure you would agree.) There can be no doubt that the Youngest of the Darling Daughters isn’t selective about the times she spends with me.
In three weeks time, I am heading to her house for a long weekend while the Really Rather Wonderful Rosalie lives in to take care of Mr B in my absence. Apart from attending the Twins’ fifth birthday party (oh, what fun that
will be!) we will do what comes naturally. I will stay late in bed of a morning, take my time in the shower, spend happily aimless hours sitting in her conservatory drinking coffee and chatting. I expect we will visit a coffee shop or two where we may - or
may not - sit by the window and growl at people who leave the door open when they enter or exit.
I am SO looking forward to doing absolutely nothing much
at all. It will be SUCH fun!