Today, before it got TOO hot, Frederick and I headed out to the Davison skate park, our usual hang out for roller skating. We have gone four or five times before so far this year, and each time Frederick is more confident, enjoys it more, and wants to stay longer.
Now he only holds my hand lightly, and even that he lets go of from time to time.
Since the skate park is set up primarily for skateboarders, there are these specialty ramps set up to give the skaters something to twist and flop about on. Every time we go, I ask Frederick if he wants to give a ramp a whirl and he lets me know, emphatically, that he does not. Today, however, he decided that he DID want to give this green ramp a try.
Here he is, flying across the slippery slope. We did this about five times, once each time we looped around the park.
I am pretty sure that, barring unforeseen circumstances, he will be a fair roller skater by the time winter starts--and which point we will head indoors to skate to disco music at top volume and roller haven.
My Grandma died today. As you can gather, she was 99 years old. I hadn't seen her in a few years, and it didn't sound like the last few years were very good. But she was a wonderful grandma to me. She moved down from Yorkshire to Somerset when I was about 8 or so and lived in the village about a mile and a half away. She was there to go to after school, or when I or my sister was sick, and she always had the best homemade shortbread. The first picture is her with the love of her life, Horace, me, and my sister. Oh, and Mitzi. That one's probably still in Yorkshire. The next one is just her and Horace (who also lived into his nineties, but died, it must be 27 years ago, because there was 20 years between them) in Wellington, I believe, in the house they moved into in Horace's final years. Then we see four generations of Cushing, in the garden of her house in Tiverton, and finally her gleefully encouraging Thomas, her great-grandson, to bounce on her bed (same house, following year).
She always encouraged me, and forgave me even after I asked her innocently (I was very little, I swear) why she had a mustache. (She told me later that she quietly went and had electrolysis - I felt awful.) Everyone should be lucky enough to have a Grandma like I had.
