An injection of the personal, to combat the political
Although really, where is the line between them? (Temporarily assume thoughtful face, perhaps with finger on side of mouth in manner of philosophical type person.)
Helena’s birthday was lovely. She liked her dress. (Hooray, cried the knitter, who had been prepared for the perversity of three year olds and the possibility of the dress never being worn at all.) She liked her puppet Henrietta to go with her older, much loved un-puppet Henrietta.
She liked her umbrella which she has since painted.
She liked riding on Thomas the Tank Engine, who handily was visiting a historical railway near us. (We all liked that, even the parents.) Nice velvet seats, lovely Lancaster county out the window, inlaid wood ceilings and pleasant conductors. And check out those lollipops. That’s some serious sugar consumption going on.
Did you make that dress? It’s wonderful!
I did! I totally did! I was (am) very excited about it.
How did Thomas get over the other side of the atlantic? And when can we have him back?
A philosophical-type person. Or at least, I was once.