Friday, July 02, 2010
edge, fairy story, shouting
The edge of the Isle of Wight.
When I return to the table where we are sitting outside the Seaview Hotel, Heidi says: "You have missed two things. First, a duck flew straight down the road between the houses. Next, came a beautiful lady on a horse. She was blond and was sitting straight - upright the way English girls are taught to do". At first, I feel sorry that I have missed the duck and the pretty lady, but then I think to myself, if I had seen them, the event would have been less of a theme round which to weave a fairy story.
On the the last leg of our journey home on the train from Charing Cross, a small child shouts almost continuously. It is not crying, but shouting possibly with joy, but shouting nevertheless, to the full extent of its little lungs. I ask myself, what is the best way to stop children (and grown ups for that matter) needlessly shouting. The solution, I think, and feel better for it, is to speak to them very, very softly about something close to their heart.