Tuesday evenings

Tuesday evenings is my singing group night.
It's a group of women - though Reg does join us most times - that like to sing.
My geniously musical friend Lorraine - in the olden days we used to play in a band together - she works out harmonies for us... in between we drink wine and chat.
It's great.
Most weeks I host it at mine cos I have a Really Fantastic Out House in our garden.
(It used to be the old stables to some grand house round the corner but we converted it into self-contained space. It's very white and spacious and there are NO primary coloured plastic toys... and it really does have a chandelier and a chaise longue. It's great for summer BBQs as has 4 patio doors that all open up to the garden, or its been home to friends that come to stay or a temporary abode to the odd relationship crisis-hit friend of ours... or on Tuesdays a 15 person choir.)

Every time it's at our house
(hey we're a groovy choir: sometimes it's at one members theatre space or another member who lives in a converted chapel etc etc)
I digress... every time it's at our house Romany opens her bedroom window and tries to listen to the tunes waft across the garden.

I have spent the last 4 days in extremely close contact with Romany as she has not been well. Although ill, she has been delightful... though a little limited in her conversation - rotating around the following themes:
My tummy hurts. Or... my throat hurts... Or the more dramatic: I feel dizzy.
I have laid/chatted/calpolled/jigsawed/tried to tempt her to eat... etc etc...
She's been delightful company but she now needs to Go Back To School - and EAT food... mission accomplished today...

So, I asked the 12 strong choir tonight to stand out in our garden, below her window.
I gave her my best mispent-youth-four-fingered-incredibly-loud-whistle and she appeared at her window.
She opened it even wider and stood in her pyjamas on her windowsill.
And we sang to her.
We sang several verses and we All Got It Right.
And she clapped insanely at the end.

Goodness, the lengths we will go to for an audience.

We carried on rehearsing inside our out house but when I went in to make sure she was going to sleep - she had written me the following poem:
I will copy it EXACTLY as she gave to me - only in parts did I worry about her future therapy bills and my success as a parent.
Here you go:

NB: Where necessary, I will write my defense/response IN BRACKETS

Page 1 - My Poem
My mum is very light (aha... so I'm not FAT!)
My mum is very nice (told you!)
This is an poem to
show that she is kind (hope proof wasn't actually necessary)
I don't mind
if mum tells me of
and go's out with her
friends because she
cares for me. (I swear when saying I "go out" she means I move 20 feet across the garden to sing with my friends... )
I don't mind if my mum tells me 100000 times she loves me (very good of her)
and does't let me have coke because she cares for me. (absolutely! Clearly she isn't confused by spotting me with the odd Diet Coke... )
TURN PAGE OVER (ok ok.. goodness, you're bossy)
I'm sorry for all the naughty stuff I've done
an merdered Cole and annoyed you and Daddy (ah.. wasn't aware she'd actually murdered her brother - checked his bed, he sleeping soundly - not dead)
I'll love you forever. (ok, good, still bit concerned for Cole tho)

Stuff you and sinning group NEED to know (she means singing group)
I've got 1 or 2 things to say to you people
1. You were stupendos and
2. don't start caffafing (yes, she does mean caffafing cos I asked her)
now, I've got more
3. I'm going way beyond the limit (aaah.. so you are aware)
PAGE 2
4. Can I be your persinal trainer when your lerning new songs?
5. you o me an appoligy for forcing me to sit at the other side of the bed listening to your beautiful singing!!
(eh??)
6. emmmmmmmmmm (really, that was number six)
7. Hi
8. By
The End

(Should I be worried?)