There's an elephant in my living room. Not a metaphorical 'let's not talk about something' type one, but an almost life size, somewhat dominating one end of the room, type one. Polly is having a party on Saturday to celebrate her 40th birthday and has decided on an Indian theme. “We need an elephant,” she told me. “Knock yourself out,” I said.
I woke up this morning to find a fairly realistic head of Elephas maximus indicus hanging from a bookcase. Polly says that all she needs to do now is make the body. I don't think she's joking.
Sam is still off school. The poor child hasn't made it through a night without being sick since last Saturday. He's been absolutely fine during the last few days, desperate to eat and eager for entertainment. Every few minutes he asks plaintively when Matty will be coming home. The doctor says simply, “'there's a lot of it going around.” Right now Sam's sitting down to a supper of dry crackers.
I hope you have a wonderful Birthday, Polly.
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