Up on North Hill my grand-daughter texted? her brother – not with us alas, as he is at Uni.
‘Tell him to keep off cannabis – that skank really messes with your mind.’ I suggested helpfully.
Hilarity all round. Apparently I meant skunk and the other word is one grand mothers shouldn’t use.
The sun came out – a little shyly – but welcome nevertheless, and we could see snow patches on the distant hills and pretend we were in
We also discussed the generation gap with regard to attitudes to political correctness and gaffes one can make unthinkingly and how these are judged much more harshly by the young. Then back to a delicious cold lunch prepared by MTL. The young prepared supper with three different types of sausage – venison, pork and apple and pork and leeks, with mash and peas and a great chutney. Only I had room for tarte au citron – but I’m walking again tomorrow.
I’m delighted English Lit is my grand-daughter‘s favourite subject and is just working on Arthur Miller’s ‘View from the Bridge’ and reading Fitzgerald’s ’Tender is the Night.’ for pleasure. I proudly showed her my screen saver photo of Scott and Zelda.