Do you remember those flowers you used to pick, the ones by the stream? Every week, you came in with a bundle of those flowers for me, clenched in your dirty little fist. I always put them by the window so that I could see them while I was working at the wheel, and you always brought fresh ones when they began to wilt.
I found some of them at the house Belle and I moved into this week. There’s a great thatch of them just outside the kitchen window.
(…) I go in nice and easy and start him on how to repaint my floor at home. Do I need to sand in between coats? Carlyle, who used to be a decorator, smiles at the traces of paint on my hands and sympathises with my DIY dilemma. "As soon as you start, you regret that decision," he says, adding that he “occasionally does some decorating if my wife puts a gun to my head”. (x)