Sunday By The Sea
We sat out on the deck in straw hats to shield us from the sun’s morning rays, which was the reason we were sitting out there in the first place.
Amanda, Fabian and Max all wore Amanda’s straw hats, of which she has quite a collection. Shells and hats, shells and hats.
The sun hats all had ribbons, yes shells, hats and ribbon.
I had on days hat, no adornment at all, just a good, honest straw hat.
Amanda had made scones, she was up early, and she just whipped them up. She had raspberry jam, and she’d whipped cream.
“Now some philistines may tell you the cream goes on first,” says Amanda to Max, like ladies in the garden. “But don’t listen to them. The jam goes on first under all circumstances.”
“Ah, get them young,” I say.
“Indoctrinate them early,” well why not,” Amanda announced. “The… er… um, godbotherers were surely taking their progeny to their church from the time they were, er, um, crapping their nappies.”
“That’s my girl,” I said. “My work here is done.”
“You mean my work is done,” Amanda insisted. “It is the chicken or the egg all over again.”
“I taught you everything you know.”
“My darling boy, I had seen your peepee…”
“Thank you very much,” I said. “I hope someone is getting this down for when I sue her for… um… er, I’ll think of that later…”
“More times than you have, even before you knew which way was up,” said Amanda. “I taught you everything you know.”
Amanda had got tea pots from somewhere, (going to the post office, filling my tea pot, all quaint sayings no longer used) and she had filled them with tea.
I accelerated up the Great Ocean Road, my favourite part of road, in my favourite car. The GTI did everything is was supposed to and more.
I love a fast car on a windy road, it is exhilarating, it is adrenaline pumping, it is half the reason I go to Fairhaven at all.
Amanda, Fabian and Max all wore Amanda’s straw hats, of which she has quite a collection. Shells and hats, shells and hats.
The sun hats all had ribbons, yes shells, hats and ribbon.
I had on days hat, no adornment at all, just a good, honest straw hat.
Amanda had made scones, she was up early, and she just whipped them up. She had raspberry jam, and she’d whipped cream.
“Now some philistines may tell you the cream goes on first,” says Amanda to Max, like ladies in the garden. “But don’t listen to them. The jam goes on first under all circumstances.”
“Ah, get them young,” I say.
“Indoctrinate them early,” well why not,” Amanda announced. “The… er… um, godbotherers were surely taking their progeny to their church from the time they were, er, um, crapping their nappies.”
“That’s my girl,” I said. “My work here is done.”
“You mean my work is done,” Amanda insisted. “It is the chicken or the egg all over again.”
“I taught you everything you know.”
“My darling boy, I had seen your peepee…”
“Thank you very much,” I said. “I hope someone is getting this down for when I sue her for… um… er, I’ll think of that later…”
“More times than you have, even before you knew which way was up,” said Amanda. “I taught you everything you know.”
Amanda had got tea pots from somewhere, (going to the post office, filling my tea pot, all quaint sayings no longer used) and she had filled them with tea.
I accelerated up the Great Ocean Road, my favourite part of road, in my favourite car. The GTI did everything is was supposed to and more.
I love a fast car on a windy road, it is exhilarating, it is adrenaline pumping, it is half the reason I go to Fairhaven at all.
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