As reported by my sister:
Having bought two hanging baskets filled with various unidentified but oh-so-lovely flowers, she, Mama Nut, my sister, proceeded to the next step: the hanging up of the hanging baskets. This entailed several tools, assorted bits and pieces, and a dash of patience.
Perched high on a stool, attempting to coax bits of metal into the wood of the outside wall, it became apparent that the unidentified but lovely flowers came packaged with cheap hardware. Every twist of the screw caused threads to strip and frustration to mount. Mutterings under the breath turned into slightly louder grumbles which became rather vocal sons of sea biscuits.
Meanwhile, Four and Five were blithely and cheerfully playing, singing, chattering - as three and four year-olds are wont to do.
"Oh, stop it!" Mama growled. "Can you just stop playing and being so happy for a minute?"
A while later, gathering her smallest small people to collect the big boys from school, she came across some resistance.
"Mummy, you're not going to be mean and nasty again, are you?" asked Four.
"No! I wasn't being nasty! I was frustrated because the thing wasn't working properly"
His eyebrow clearly said Four didn't believe her. He decided to humour his mother anyway, "Ok, then I'll go with you."
solitude + inspiration
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