Saturday, 24 September 2011
I cried when I saw the coach drawing out of the school playground with the kids going on their week away at the field centre -- and it wasn't even either of my kids. I also cried when I was waiting for the train to London once and a special nostalgia train pulled in -- a steam train with everyone on board dressed up in Forties and Fifties outfits, going to Scarborough for the day. When it pulled away from the station it was like seeing a ghost train from the past and, oh dear, just the memory of it even now...
When my kids tease me and come and leer at me to see if they can spot a tear glistening in the corner of my eye, I think, well at least I'm not completely hardhearted.
(Most embarrassing welling-up: Nanci Griffith's 'Trouble in the Fields'. I know. But it gets me every time: 'You be the mule, I'll be the plough, come harvest time we'll work it out'.... oh, excuse me, I have to ...go and ... blow my nose...)