It's stopped raining but Darren had to work today, which left me entertaining Ella alone. We did some crayoning, we did some playdoh. We even did some glueing and sang songs. Then I lost the will to live so we went to Coles to buy a replacement leg of lamb for dinner.
Eventually we went out to Centennial Park, which was very busy with large groups of families and friends barbequeing sausages and playing frisbee. I had a job preventing Ella from wandering over to them, as she ran about shouting "I want sausage", (or more precisely, "I want soggidge"). The sight of all these large groups made me feel so alone. Stupid really, it's not as though we spend every bank holiday barbequing sausages in Tatton Park, it's just having people to do it with if we wanted to.
We stopped off by one of the lakes to feed the ducks but were met with a flock of parrots instead. A couple of gay blokes with a yappy-type dog offered me another half a loaf when they saw Ella.
"Oh have this, our dog will scare the birds away and your little one will miss out".
"Thanks".
"Oh, you're a northener. I'm from Wilmslow"
"Ah, you're a posh northener, I should have known from your sunglasses".
He was wearing the most shameless posing Dior shades you can imagine and was dressed like George Michael in the video to Careless Whisper. A parrot landed on my head, not a little lorikeet but a big white parrot the size of a sulphur-crested cockatoo. "That's a corella" he said.
It didn't bother me but I shooed it off in case it was carrying fleas or in need of the toilet. Mr Wilmslow started hopping about.
"Gerry, it's divine, if only I had the camera...".
They left shortly after that and we gave the rest of the bread to the black swans, enormous catfish, eels and turtles resident in and on the lake.
One lonely bank holiday and I'm suddenly unsure about staying forever.
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