Even Boston Legal didn’t cheer me up

blah blah blah Monday nights blah blah rhythm of my life blah blah my night to read to children, introduce them to new book, they always complain but by the end are snuggled around me blah blah blah dreaming of evening to self blah blah blah bake lunchbox muffins or cake thinking lovely thoughts of completeness of life all the while going to the kitchen door every now and then to yell down the passage ‘if I have to come down there’ later reinforced with ‘if I have to say this one more time’ blah blah wipe down table blah blah blah thinking of knitting or cross stitch to be done blah blah bladedy blah

when I get to 9.30, sit down with piece of aforementioned muffin or cake, cup of tea (and can I just say that last night’s allspice muffins washed down with chai went down a treat) and watch Enough Rope. Unless he is doing a ‘celebrity’ interview – such as Antonio Banderas, Rod Stewart, certain cricketers, Russell Crowe – all those and more were totally shit interviews where he seems to get starstruck or something and I just channell surf idly until it is time for Boston Legal to begin (I love James Spader, did I mention that?).

When he is at his best, Denton’s interviews are excellent. I very often cry. And last night’s footballer interview surely made me do that. There were positives, and there is hope woven in and out of that family. There has to be. But it’s all the unsaid stuff that’s stayed with me. So much sadness across so many lives. And all of last night, and into this morning, and probably into this afternoon, I am being followed around by the mother’s story and of how it is to watch your baby’s life unfold.

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