See J, who spends most time around here in nothing but shorts and sandals and guess correctly “Ah, you’re going to the dump”. Well, not the dump, but the skip half a block away, a public distance calling for a shirt.
We are on the front steps after supper, having just finished small bowls of exceedingly good vanilla ice cream from the corner shop (their lemon ice cream is lovely too, but unfortunately comes in a container with half lemon and half grape, the grape not as nice). The kind lady from across the road - she of the beautiful home baking - comes over with another small circlet of powerfully scented jasmine. Fills the whole house with its perfume. Sad that only visual and auditory memories can be saved or shared electronically.
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