Imagination

It's bedtime and Harriet has just told me her nightly story. Instead of the normal bedtime book we now make up our own stories, like the girl who found a secret den at the bottom of her garden or the boy who dug a hole at the beach and discovered a box of treasure, or.... "Once a once (instead of once upon) a time there was a girl called Daisy. She went to the supermarket on her own. Her mum and dad asked her to buy a fish and a cake. The fish was pink and all sorts of colours and the cake was raisin, and she rode home on a motorbike"
"Oh that's a great story Hattie" I say, Hattie continues "I haven't finished yet Dad, then her brother Gabriel hears some marching outside the door (at this point 'H' is on top of me marching on the bed) and it's those marching people, you know who march like this (she imitates straight arms and legs at this point, still on me) "Oh soldiers" I say, "Yes soldiers and they just march past the house smiling, what a day"......"Night then Hattie"!!!!!.

While we are on the subject of stories and imagination, the Hargreaves posse visited Greenway this afternoon, the holiday home and retreat of Agatha Christie. What a place it is, the house, in thirty acres of lovely gardens, is perched on a hillside near Brixham with panoramic views across the water. This was her 'getaway', away from the hustle and bustle of work (96 books written all told) where the family would holiday, and read!, and walk and relax.
It was a great insight into the life of an incredible lady. We were even told, as we were ushered into the house through the back door, that she too had to enter her own house 'around the back'. Such was her fame at the time an extension had to be built onto the house to give her the privacy to come and go at her own pleasure, otherwise the 'paparazzi' would snap her. Yes even back then the 'paps' were at it!.

In other news, I am developing Enochlphobia (a fear of crowds), not the big stadium crowds though, no it's more the crowds at a supermarket, when you can be looking at a pizza in aisle 5 when suddenly every other customer in the whole store seems to be peering over your shoulder at what you are looking at. It happened to me the other day and I had to run off shouting "I'm being crowded out here, I can't handle it". As well as Enochlophobia I am also being treated for Telephobia (a fear of phones). I never answer the home phone and my mobile is a real test of nerves, and anyway my beloved iPhone is probably currently in the hands of Vicky Pollards boyfriend, down the shops or at the park with two litres of white lighting in a new burberry sleeve with a 'am I bovered ringtone' installed, so for now I can rest easy in the knowledge that my 'new' old phone has the capabilities of a breeze block and a contact list as empty as Tiger Woods'.

CH