Monday, 17 July 2017


Not a word (or exclamation, or whatever else you want to call it) I'd ever used in a text message before, until this afternoon. I texted K after an encounter with an infeasibly beautiful boy, one of a party on what appeared to be a school trip, on the Overground on my way to work earlier. He was about the same age as DBJ was when I fell for him, tallish like my unforgettable inamorata but not otherwise alike, today's boy's most distinctive feature being absolutely lovely light brown, collar-length hair I could happily have spent hours cooing over. But, of course, he 'ghosted' away after little more than ten minutes as I changed trains to continue my journey.
And that wasn't the only 'waaaah' moment in the past twenty four hours - last night, in reaction to a conversation at work, I found, in an internet property search, a place that could easily have been my 'retirement home', a two bedroom, furnished cottage in a waterside Cornish village I would give my right arm to live in, for the sort of rent that wouldn't even secure you a garage in several parts of London. K's reaction was that I should just take my pension yesterday and go and live there, but I simply can't shirk the responsibility I feel to at least do what I can to help my girl through the rest of her education. I just hope somewhere comparable might be available in eighteen months or so.

Love & best wishes to all
Sammy B

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