White knee high socks

Monday mornings always begin with a lecture and this morning we were discussing Chris Killip's 'In Flagrante.' A couple of pictures - a girl playing with a hoop with white knee high socks on and a small boy sitting with his legs bunched up holding a frog - brought back memories of growing up. We lived on a council estate and at the bottom of a HUGE hill was the local school. When my older sister turned five and began primary, I would have to walk alongside her and my mother every morning and afternoon - up and down that hill. I was only three and my little legs found it incredibly hard going. Eventually when we got to the hill (and I realised that I would have to walk back up) I refused to go any further and my mother would leave me sitting on the curb with my knees drawn up and my white socks pulled high to wait for her to return. I can remember sitting there feeling completely safe, scuffing my sandals on the road or watching the ants follow the line of the curb waiting for her familiar wave. I love how pictures can transport you - just for a moment - as if you were right there again.

I think the girls are feeling my preoccupation with work and I do miss spending guilt free time with them to make or bake or just have some fun. I have promised them we'll watch a film together on Friday night cuddled up in bed with popcorn (for Rowan) and strawberries (for Murron).