No blog entry yesterday because Nick and I watched part two of the Red Riding trilogy (originally written by David Peace) shown on Channel 4. We had watched the whole of the programme together, this hardly ever happens. When the credits rolled, I asked him what he thought. "alright" he said. I tried to get a conversation going but only succeeded in getting the same one word response. I didn't push it further, and didn't write my blog. I was upset, my chest started to hurt. I wanted to go for a walk, but Coventry after midnight is inhabited by worse than vampires, it crawls with nightclub rejects. Nick realised something was wrong but didn't know what. He was sweet and fell asleep facing me, holding my arm. The pain over my sternum went away.
Darcy and I went for a long walk today. We did the full circuit of the Memorial Park. It was about three in the afternoon and there were groups of older children walking home together, playing and laughing as they went. Darcy was full of mischief and used his talent for going up to flirt with the ones who were frightened of dogs. It was sweet that the frightened ones were protected by their friends. Darcy avoided all of the children who wanted to pet him, of course. I remembered walking home with my friends after school. The laughter, the barging each other, piggybacks, singing, talking loud. My friend Sami and I would walk together, down the hill to her house. Her mum would always be in, and sometimes there would be home made coffee cake. That was the best cake I've ever tasted. I'm glad I'm back in touch with Sami, even if its just as a Facebook friend, and in spite of her taste for sending me facebook fairies.
After the children came the footballers. A group of young men at the car park end. Like schoolboys, they had piled up their bags to make goalposts, even though the park has several real ones. They were running about shouting and laughing while faithfully playing the game. I watched from the car, feeling libidinous, looking at the legs in the white shorts that many of them had chosen to wear, the flirts. Oddly, there was no fat one, not even in goal. I thought there had to be a fat one, just for team morale. There was a weedy one, as required, which was a relief. As if to replace the fat one, there was an especially short one. Perhaps he was the sub?
In case I look back on this entry and think I was only able to notice young men, I also noticed that the may trees were just coming into blossom. I tried to photograph it but couldn't get the camera to focus.
Its red nose day, they just announced they raised 14m more than and previous year. I'm pleased for them, the quality of the work, and the publicity has been good this year. The cause is good, and yet I have shouted at the screen, "Yes but also smash the capitalist drugs companies, drop the debt, bring democracy and equality, break the ridiculous excesses of organised religion, then give a tenner!
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