Busy day today, so no chance to write a story for FF. Hopefully I’ll manage later in the week but as a placeholder, I’m sharing an old FF story which I was reminded of recently, and which Liz Young’s picture fits so well with today.
Dawson met Donald on the plane. They shared a joke about kids demanding gifts on their return. They lost track of each other after baggage reclaim – a grandiose name for the pile of bags on a worn-out trolley in the entrance hall.
A week later, digging yet another home out of the rubble, Dawson heard his name yelled from the river. Donald was in full vacation mode, paddling through the gentle swell. The earthquake had made hotels desperate for guests, Donald said. Watersports were free. Dawson should get out of the mud and join him on a jetski tomorrow.
When I got home, Mum wanted to know all about the host family where I stayed. They taught me so much – they always followed up with the English if they said something I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t tell her my favourite lesson though.
On the way to a super fancy restaurant for dinner, we were running late when a huge wagonload of straw pulled onto the road in front of us.
“Merde!” shouted the Dad.
The Mum looked at him and whispered “Les enfants!”
So he turns to me. I thought he was going to apologise, but he translates instead.
Being married to a Rear Admiral, it’s no surprise that Lady Margaret favours the nautical metaphor. Moving to a bigger house, she gathered us together to announce that “a rising tide lifts all boats,” without giving a moment’s thought to the boats who’d be getting up 30 minutes earlier to light five extra fires and shine twice as many brass knockers.
Recently, she’s been heard to say that “we’re all in the same boat”. I suppose, in a sense, we are. Same boat, same storm. But only some of us are in steerage, avoiding rats and bailing out the bilge.
Not my favourite phrase of the era, as you can probably tell. I do enjoy a bit of Zac Brown Band though: