On arriving

We had a busy day out today, and were all quite worn out by the time we got home. Fuelled by sugar and excitement, bedtime was a bit of a….. well yes, it took some time.
We’d run out of milk, so once the boys were settled I had a good excuse to nip out to the shops.
I had been a warm day, but it was almost nine o’clock and the air had turned a bit chilly. I pulled my thin cardigan a little tighter and walked down the street. The church bells were ringing. I nodded hello to the man waiting in the door of the pizza shop. Folk music was spilling out of the open doors of the community centre. A couple of teenagers playing basketball in the empty supermarket car park.
I got my milk, and bananas (always bananas), and a new cup for the baby because he won’t drink out of Kaya’s old one, and started walking home. The sky was turning pink. I spotted a bowling game in full swing through the hedge of the club. Elderly ladies filled the corridor of the community centre, chatting and pouring cups of tea.
I walked around the corner to our house. The old TV someone dumped there is still sitting by the wall. Won’t someone please come and take it away?
Before going back inside, I sat down on the low stone wall in the yard. We only have a tiny outside space, but there is a communal area with the potential to be something pretty. I was thinking what we could do to it, now that we’re mostly settled in our flat.

The other day Kaya was going around on his scooter here. He took a corner a bit too fast and fell, cutting his knee and landing his hand in the stinging nettles. That was the day he put the plasters on for the first time. Kaya has been having an aversion to plasters for as long as I can remember. The prospect of putting one on is more upsetting than comforting. But  that day, he asked for the children’s plasters. I had to rummage around a bit, because we hadn’t used any in such a long time. He inspected the different designs and proceeded to stick on three of them. On his stung hand mind, not his bleeding knee.

That’s what I was thinking of, sitting on that wall, listening to the birds singing and neighbours chatting, saying hello to Beetle, the enormous dog who lives next door and stuck his nose out the gate.
We are making new memories.
I guess we have just about arrived at home.

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One Response to On arriving

  1. Renee says:

    Sounds like you have indeed arrived. Welcome home 🙂

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