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The Most Valuable Raspberry

January 23, 2015

I ate my evening meal at the kitchen table while my landlady tested her two daughters on their spelling homework.

Then they clamoured for her to read them a story. They wanted book nine from the Lemony Snicket series.

Five minutes into their pre-bedtime read I found myself remembering my own bedtime reading.

My Mum read from Brer Rabbit, and her soft, kindly English accent would send me off quite happily.

She’s currently a good way into her Alzheimers journey, but she recently opened an eye and blew a tired raspberry at me.

I can’t decide whether the woman who read me bedtime stories is still in there or whether she just returns for fleeting visits.

Filed in: Personal

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