On Sharing and Rain

Miss Petra’s an affectionate lass. She’s keen for cuddles and kisses, and if you’re not careful, licking. She likes you to taste the particularly good bits of her food. And she gets right in your face for conversation and hanging out. This is all very very lovely. I delight in her enthusiasm and her snuggliness.

There’s a downside though. If she gets a cold, we get it too. And colds from children are particularly virulent for some reason. She’s kindly shared her latest one with me and I’m thoroughly miserable. It’s been nothing more than a mild inconvenience for Petra. She’s had a couple of days off school but she’s stayed pretty perky. I, on the other hand, feel as if I’ve been run over by a whole rush hour of buses.

So that’s my self-pity for the day.

On the plus side, we’ve sneaked in a mild sunny day in the teeth of forecasts predicting rain and wind and general unpleasantness. I did several loads of washing. And Petra and I made haste to walk the dog. The weather’s so chancy here that you have to seize upon any niceness that turns up. It’s a bit like Vancouver that way. When I first moved to Vancouver I was amused by the way the locals poured into the streets if the rain even looked like easing up. After living there for a few months, I realised what a sound strategy that was. And after I’d been there for several years, I was as unthinkingly expert at taking advantage of any stray gleam of sun as the locals I’d laughed at before. Those skills have stood me in good stead now that I’m a Wellingtonian.

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