3BT – Page 176 – Louisa Parry

She’s a funny one, damn good kids, strangely romantic moment, sleep hug

1. I go down to see the chickens – to fill up their food & water and take some photos for The Really Good Life’s chicken update. The one with black flecks seems delighted to see me and is intrigued by the camera – she looks at it, peers inside at the lens snapping shut and pecks at my fingers holding it up. I laugh and laugh, then looking at the pictures I’ve taken, I laugh again.

2. We spend most of the dress rehearsal nagging them to speak clearer, add more character and please oh please learn their lines before Friday – but I make sure to single them out afterwards and thank them for the effort they’ve put in thus far. Later, with the older kids, amid stalled improvisations & funny word games, I chat to them about fake tan mishaps, bra straps and chlamydia tests in public toilets. I’m going to miss them a lot over the summer.

3. They break the hug when the bus arrives and as she turns to the door, she licks her lips. Eyes shining & cheeks flushed, he watches her as she pays and moves up the bus. She sticks her tongue out as she passes him as if freeing him to go but he stays until the bus pulls away.

4. I’m hardly wake enough to realise what Boron’s doing – positioning himself under my arm for a cuddle. In my mostly-asleep state, I shuffle around him to get comfortable and he places his head next to mine on the pillow. Like Carla last week, he’s soft like a teddy bear but purring. I like when the nights are cooler and the cats remember where the warmth is.

Spotted, nearly kisses, hen friends, up there with laughter

6/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. I find a polka dotted feather on the ground in the woods – black with white spots. I show the boys then keep it tucked in my hand, to take it home and add it to my collection.

2. “Well, that was nearly embarrassing,” I tell one of my colleagues over IM, “the cat just stood on the “x” key and nearly sent you a row of kisses.” He laughs.

3. The chicken, the one with the black flecked neck, eats the corn from my hand – a first for Team Peach. Later, they all eat from John’s hand and the black flecked one jumps then flies up to sit on my head. I think they’re starting to like us.

4. She’s on me now, rubbing and writhing around on my wrists as I’m trying to type. Now she’s sat on the arm of the chair, looking at me, purring with her paws tucked under at the front. I reach over to tickle her head but she pushes her chin forward instead, telling me to stroke under there instead. My hands are dry & tender – swollen joint hangover from the work I did yesterday & from an assortment of nettle strings today – but the pain is temporarily relieved when I touch her smooth and refreshingly cool fur.

Dirt boobs, quick glances, looking up

5/7/2010 / louisa / 2 Comments

1. I spend most for the day grinding old paint from the metal railing and floor of our balcony. (We figure we’ll do it properly once and it shouldn’t need treating again while we’re here.) I’m covered in dust by lunchtime and for some reason, the dirt has particularly stuck in two circles over my boobs. We laugh when we notice.

2. They look to me for reassurance and I laugh and smile at the right times, like an inverse Simon Cowell.

3. Waiting at the bus stop, my mum tells me about the sunset in Southport – strangely orange over the sea. I tell her in Bingley, the sky is still blue but the clouds to the west make the hills look taller than they are. I’m sat opposite the old Bradford & Bingley building – which the giant vinyl banners tell me is now for sale or to let – and notice the neglected trellises on the upper balconies.

Stroke, good dogs, crunch-crunch-crunch, stroke

4/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. They’re slowly getting used to us. At first, they quietly protest about being held but I’m barely holding the last one, just a supporting hand on her chest then nothing at all, and she stays there on my knee. She peers at us both without blinking for a few moments then slowly hops off my lap and returns to her pecking.

2. We meet two cute little dogs on the walk – Murphy at the start, Scraps at the end. Both are tempted to stop and play with Lily but like good dogs, they respond to their owners’ calls instead.

3. The baked egg shells crumble easily under the mortar and the sound straddles the fine line between wonderful and grating.

4. Boron joins us on the sofa and the position he’s in means I can stroke him with my full forearm, not just my hand. His fur feels warm and luxurious on my inner wrist.

Early morning, perfect results, good dog good dog

3/7/2010 / louisa / 0 Comments

1. I get up to let the chickens into the run then sneak back to bed, curling around the dog who has taken my place while I was away. Outside, it felt earlier than it is – soft sunlight, a dawn-like chill – but the bedroom is toasty warm.

2. The bread’s even brown crust glistens as it slips out of the pan without hesitation. Later, the scones are as equally uniform in gorgeous colour. A good baking day.

3. I remember I’ve got her bone in my pocket and initiate a game of fetch. She doesn’t really know how to play Fetch but with coaching, she’s gets it and grins in anticipation before each round. Suddenly, she hears a distant bark and gets self-conscious as if she thinks Fetch is not respectable doggie behaviour.

It wasn’t even that cold, busy buzzing, perfectly put

1/7/2010 / louisa / 1 Comment

1. Conscious of a distance chicken announcing she’d just laid an egg, I wake up earlier than normal. Carla is nestled in my arms like a teddy bear. When I’d woken through the night, she’d been there too – a sleepy purr starting whenever I brushed her silky soft fur. (She’s with me now too, parading up and down the arm of my chair, urging me to go to bed – oh and if I could give her her supper on the way, that would be great, thanks.)

2. I’m transfixed watching a bee passing between the flowers, doing his bit for my blackberry jam making this autumn.

3. I’m pause in my conversation with John and smile. He asks me what I’m smiling at and I explain that Katherine’s just appeared on IM and said “hello Pazza the Poultry Possessor”. We like alliteration.

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