Ugh. I LOVE getting together with my friend Angus. It’s never often enough and always too short. He brought me a sportball shirt. (Rather butch, isn’t it?) He and I talk of the most broad-ranging of topics and somehow, after knowing each other for 35 years, we still have a giggle at lunch.

A floor of trilliums (trillia? A plural of three-things? Oh fuck off… not you…English… Fuck off, English)

Grace makes sure her people do it right. She has her ball available for us at all times and nudges us toward the swimming pond.