Wednesday, September 17, 2014

park ways

Somehow it make me think of my mother and father fat away in Puddleby, with their regular habits, the evening practise on the flute and the rest - doing the same thing every day. I felt sorry of sorry for them in a way, because they must the fun of this traveling life, where we were doing something new ask the time- even sleeping differently. But I suppose if they had been invited to go to bed on a pavement in front of a shop they wouldn't have cared for the idea at all. It is funny how some people are.