Perhaps it's because I've become unused to walking on my own, but I hadn't done any walking during the whole five weeks that Padma was away - except for the occasional bummel down to "Melbourne" (no, that's not Melbourne but "Melbourne") - but this morning I gained permission from the Ministry of Silly Walks, and we set off again for a long walk across the bridge and around the village.
Nothing much seemed to have changed: the same stray dogs, the same people, the same banal exchanges about the weather, until we got to the bottom of the hill where to my surprise I discovered that whoever is in charge of traffic signs took notice of Padma's height and adjusted a sign accordingly. Maybe there is a Ministry of Silly Walks after all!
I recovered my strength sitting on the sunlit verandah all afternoon and reading Ursula Dubosarsky's "The Word Spy". Halfway through I realised I had read it before but by that time I was too engrossed in it to put it down again. "Come and discover the secrets of the English language" is its byline, and what an enjoyable romp through the English language it has been! And what's better still, there's even a sequel: "The Return of the Word Spy", which is now on my bucket list of books yet to read.
