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(open?)
Stephen is down by the lake shore, muddy to the knees, observing the ducks. What the ducks think of this is unclear, but at any rate they are ignoring him. -
oh, not again--
--yes, this would be a small, a very small Stephen with muddy knees and tangled hair, curled up between the roots of a tree and watching a nearby spider go about its spidery business. -
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*resolutely ignoring any and all indecent carryings-on. is, however, probably available if anybody needs him* -
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The young lady assures me that she "cannot make this up". Nor, indeed, could I.
You Are A: Turtle!
( Read more... ) -
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*blinks rather and peers about*
*reads last entry*
...
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. *goes back to bed* -
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*is tiny muddy kid still*
*handwriting is bigger but still barely legible*
I caught a frog, but she ran away. So did I.
A man told me never marry an englishwoman and he is right. All the ones I know are mad.
I still cannot find my frog. -
On a more cheerful note
Frogs are singularly interesting creatures. Such delicate feet; such mild inoffensive eyes.