I spot the red light on the dash board through the fog.
How will I get to town without breaking down in a cloud of smoke.
Swinging left I head for man with a superman outfit, scowl and a coffee cup.
Who hauls himself up. Releases the handbrake with a tut and retreats.
But that someone would release my handbrake, I seem to get slower and slower both mentally and physically. But perhaps if they did I indeed would fall into that bloody great pit.
Still back at work now and hugely cheered by the children's enthusiasm with a lady bird copy of "Three Billy Goats".
The illustrations are quite wonderful. Every one was given a picture at the end of circle time to look at and they all to a man turned to their mates to compared them. The enthusiastic chatter was deafening. 'twas lovely to see. We had lost all the cards by the end of the session. Zheng had collected them and was carting them around in his pushchair.
I could have done a particularly good impression of the Troll at tidy time. But I kept it safely caged under its bridge and it is silent when everyone is doing every thing but tidy. Why would you pack the bricks away when you have remembered that Trolls live under bridges. And someone left the bricks out specially so you could build one.
Thank gawd I only work until lunch time.
I drive off navigating my way back though the fog.