Laburnum Grove*

“Happy Monday lovely.  Hope you had a nice day with the fluffy monster.  Sleep well xxx”  Seb’s message comes through at 9.17pm last night.

“He sends cuddles.  Was great to see him.  Hope the day has been productive xxx” I reply.  In fact, only saw my darling orange cat person for about five minutes, which isn’t long enough.  He had patrolling to do, and climbing on the roof.  And had to return to the flat to watch tennis till nine o’clock at night.

“Send him some from me when you see him,”  Seb says.  “Don’t worry about my work, lovely.  Leave it to me. xxx”

Argh have annoyed him, I think.  Am annoying him.  Must-Stop-It.

“Am not worrying!” I say.  “Just, you know, being supportive xxx  Sending cuddles.”  These cuddles come from from my actual self, rather than from the cat, so they are not soft and orange.

Is hard to strike a balance between asking how his work is going and not asking him about it at all.  Obviously am not his Mum, but still like to take an interest in his work.  Am just not sure what is an appropriate amount of concern.

And it’s hard to communicate using text messages.  Wish could see him more.  Tomorrow evening will have an actual telephonic chat, which is better, I decide.  Can’t this evening as am at the theatre.

“Happy Tuesday, lovely!  How is it going for you? xxx”  Seb’s message says at 11.24am this morning.

Don’t notice it till 12.37pm due to the frenetic nature of the morning at my Office.  That can only be a good thing anyway: appearing busy rather than just checking the phone every five minutes to see if a message has arrived.

“Happy!  You?”  I say.

“OK.  Doing last chemistry assignment.  Bit of a mind bender but I shall prevail xxx”  Seb replies.  Am not sure that ‘mind bender’ is a phrase, but never mind.

You see – he likes to tell me about his work.

Attached photo is a beautiful laburnum who lives near the parental home.

Anyway: Happy Tuesday everyone!

*1933.  Play by J.B Priestley.  “The Radfern family live in Laburnum Grove in North London. George tends his garden and greenhouse and his wife is content looking after the house. One day their daughter complains about how staid everything is George tells her that he has a secret life running a gang of counterfeiters. His family think he is joking until a police inspector calls.” (synopsis from

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