No, the gorgeous male in question was not my handsome pilot neighbour, although I saw him (Richard) today too, but only from a distance, and not alone – he was with his children, his parents and a dog that was attached to a fishing rod by way of a leash. But I’ll come back to that when I have told you about Mason…

 

It was because of Mason that I was up with the larks and racing out of the house at 7.45 this morning; I had decided to expend some energy by walking to meet Mason for our second date (it’s okay, Chris approves) but I ended up running because I was running late. He had to wait only four minutes – it was okay. We thought we would walk to nearby Alexander Clark Park.

On the way we stopped for five minutes to watch a palm tree cut being cut down expertly (it was fascinating and the tree- fellers – two, not three – gave us a thumbs up at the end); we were pleased to see two magpies (“for joy”;) we calmed a couple of ferocious dogs; we were approached by a weird looking big bird that had come out of the bush, and we were rather wary and unfriendly (it might have been a dangerous casawary but it was probably just a bush turkey) so it took the hint and walked off disconsolately, back into the bush; and I picked flowers for Mason, by way of adding a bit of romance to our walk. Mason (not actually a “Worshipful Master” or even an ordinary, normal mason) didn’t talk much but he showed his appreciation by making all the right noises; on the other hand, I talked a great deal, not from nervous excitement as such, but because I thought it would make him feel more comfortable.

“Want to go on the swings?” I asked.

My handsome date pulled a face. Regardless, we went on the swings and a wobbly thing like a giant spring with a seat on it. Neither of us was impressed and we decided to simply walk instead. It transpired that Mason isn’t as keen on exercise as I am – he went to sleep for forty minutes or so – but he perked up when we arrived at my house. After a lunch of boiled eggs and soldiers (we shared the same plate for added intimacy) Mason had a bath. Fresh and clean, he snuggled up with me on the sofa… and I fell asleep; he was more interested in helping me to water the plants and hang out the washing (apparently he has a penchant for pegs).

My gorgeous boyfriend is, of course, way too young for me – he is only sixteen or seventeen months old and is the nephew of Sue and Glenn. Not only am I taking on house-sitting while they are away, but also their baby-sitting arrangement on Fridays.

 

Going back to the incident of the dog on a fishing rod in the afternoon, later today; well it was such a strange and amusing sight that I sat for a while on a chair by the front door and tried to make out what was happening. Richard’s little boy and girl rode their bikes around the turning circle (my grand house is the last in the road) whilst I stared at the scampering tiny dog on the end of a fishing line. After a while the boy, wearing a green tee-shirt, pulled up to a stop in front of my grand gates, which I had left open in an attempt to appear friendly and not too mysterious.

“Are you staring at me riding my bike?” the six-year-old asked, fixing me fairly and squarely in the eyes.

There was something comical and rather beguiling about the precocious lad. Oddly, I didn’t feel he was being rude; on the contrary, he seemed just very interested to know whether or not he had my attention – I believe he wanted to make my acquaintance (typical male!).

“No, I was looking at your dog, actually,” I said, getting up and walking over to him, “Is it really attached to that fishing rod?”

“Yes, my granddad uses it as a lead,” he answered, as if that was the most natural thing in the world.

The boy’s sister drew up on her bike to join in the conversation.

“You must be the handsome pilot’s children,” I said to the pretty ten-year-old with flowing long hair under her helmet.

“That’s right,” she replied, “My name is Jade…”

“And I’m Drew,” the boy drew closer, “Would you like to see my hair?”

Drew took off his cycle helmet to reveal a head of thick, dark hair which stood up in long spikes , in spite (not spike) of the helmet (which usually has the opposite effect on normal heads of hair!).

“A great head of hair! Have you just had it cut?” I enquired.

“Yes, every day, it has to be cut every day,” he said earnestly.

Not wishing to be left out, Jade took off her cycle helmet too.

“Oh what lovely hair, you’re the fair one,” I admired.

“She sprained her ankle on her skate-board just now,” Drew drew attention to her bandage.

 

And so – I won’t go on with the entire dialogue – today has been very much a kiddie day, and I enjoyed every minute of it!