Went past a supermarket on the Lewes Road in Brighton today. I have a very clear reminder when I go past here of what it is I love about no longer living in London. In my first week in Brighton (nearly 4 years ago) I went to this bland, giant shop to purchase bland products, and at the checkout was taken aback by a young man asking my how my day had been. I could not believe it. I realised I had previously spent 9 years of my life surrounded by mute checkout people, bus drivers, shop assistants..you get it. Moving to Brighton reintroduced me to communication with strangers (something I was very familiar with growing up in the Midlands).
However, with all this Madeleine McCann business I have become ultra paranoid mum, and felt it appropriate, a few months back, when all mums everywhere were feeling sick at the thought of being inside Kate McCann's head and heart, to do the "don't talk to strangers" chat with my four year old daughter. Since then she no longer says thank you to bus drivers and sometimes ignores her uncles if she hasn't seen them for a long time. Very sad.
God being a parent is hard. And as Philip Larkin rightly said 'they f**k you up your mum and dad'.
Spent today near the Lewes Road, as mentioned, as we are doing up a house in the student area to rent out. I got very dusty and patronised by all the porky electricians and carpet men, as I swept and scrubbed the last remaining grub away. As much as I hate their stereotypical comments about women being the best cleaners and giving the place "that feminine touch", I have to say I agree. It was only when I laid a finger on the place did it begin to resemble a home. Andy is very good at making it look all flashy and stylish but I feel I give it some warmth.
Anyway. hark at me- I think I've had a few too many glasses of merlot this evening.
Best go and write some of The Book before That Mitchell and Webb Look. I hope they do the 'Dun dundlyun dun dudlyun de de de de deedla dedla de de duuuuuur' sketch with the pissheads. It always reminds me of my lovely french friend Celine who's just moved to Bath. She is not a habitual drinker unlike me, it has just become our clumsy stumbling soundtrack. We stumble a lot you see..
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