Sundays are for Strolling

Me: I love Sundays.

Nell: I know you do.

Me: Especially when the weather is warm and we can sit outside and watch the world go by.

Nell: I presume you’re referring to Our World.

Me: I am and it’s a beautiful one. Look at the sunshine on the fields.

Nell: I’m glad to see the Welsh Corgi Choir are wearing hats. One can’t be too careful at this time of year.

Me: Why aren’t you wearing yours?

Nell: I’m under the gazebo with you. My sun hat is waiting for me inside next to yours should we need them later.

Me: Harriet is such a beauty, isn’t she? Have you noticed she’s turning a little grey?

Nell: Grey chins run in the family.

Me: Dave hasn’t got one.

Nell: David needs to take that stick out of his mouth. It’s not the right sort of look for the Mayor of Kingsbridge.

Me: Just imagine if Dave does get elected? Then he really will be the Mayor.

Nell: My friend Dorothy says the Beefies have started speaking French.

Me: What?

Nell: It’s ‘ooh la la’ all over the place.

Me: ‘Ooh la la’ isn’t very French.

Nell: It’s very annoying.

Me: Poppy doesn’t have any grey at all.

Nell: That’s Poppy for you.

Me: It is Poppy sitting on Kev’s knee, isn’t it? Not Petunia?

Nell: Petunia is cartwheeling with the llamas. Do keep up.

Me: Yes. Silly me. They are so alike.

Nell: I thought we might go for a stroll by the river later.

Me: Good idea. Sundays are for strolling.

Nell: Why anyone would want to cartwheel on a Sunday is beyond me.

Me: At least they’re having fun.

Nell: And they’re making you smile. I think you’ve found your pocketful of happiness again.

Me: Yes. Sorry.

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