How weird. You spend months wondering what is wrong with you, and then one day you wake up and find that its nothing a couple of cashmere cardi's can't sort out.
I went to Oxford today on the way to see girl 13. She is having a ne-naw ne-naw moment away at boarding school. Septic self- pierced ears, boys, hormones and the rest, so I felt blessed, loading up the car with fresh fruit and veg. I was glad to be needed. I met her on Big Side and we goofed about in the shadow of the chanting and drumming and watched Stowe beat Abingdon, but not easily. She has such interesting friends - pretty and witty and daft and constantly in trouble. All the third formers do is ogle the boys and choose who's next. The sixth formers have clearly decided and were all draped all over each other. Its heartbreaking. If only they knew.
And then the trip home was good too. The sun was setting in a peachy forgiving sky, the day has lengthened. Everything I looked at pleased me, except perhaps the coffin dodger in the lime green micra doing 50 in the lane I needed. Jeeeezus! Fifth gear felt good again, which was a relief because I was running late for girl 12's pick up so had to take the course at a gallop.
Oxford is my favourite city. Full of youthful life, foreign languages, beautiful architecture, energy. I should go there more often. So Friday is looking good too as one of the cardi's is crap and has to go back. I'd rather spend the money on flowers.