Say it with enormous flowers

Say it with enormous flowers
Originally uploaded by joellaflickr.

My Friday started in rather wobbly fashion. I still haven't got used to the fact that they don't chuck you out of the pub at 11.30 anymore. But I bought a cheese and onion pasty from the Spar at the petrol station (not a Ginsters, they seem to have upped their game recently and started baking them on the premises) and ate it for breakfast, watching the ring road traffic zoom and absorbing sunshine and humidity before engaging with the controlled atmosphere of the New Building.

The morning passed without incident, and by lunchtime I was ready to face Tesco. The underpass is semi-permanently flooded at one end, and you can only get through by leaping nimbly across the stepping stone bricks that are probably there by accident. I am not that nimble so I always prepare myself by choosing an iPod track you can march to and trying not to break my stride. She who hesitates gets wet feet or a twisted ankle. This time I chose Ant Music. It worked.

Inside the shop, the King Protea stopped me in my tracks. I know they are designed to do this, but still. I rang M. You know how you don't bring me flowers anymore? I said. Well, he said, didn't you say something about it being an exploitative industry and a waste of money? Yes, I said, but can we make an exception?

Exceptions are great. I am much better at them than I used to be. Later I made another one and agreed to watch a film with subtitles. It wasn't very cheery (it seemed to be about an Iranian man who was trying to kill himself) but I had my big flowers to keep me happy.

*beam*

joella