Goose Observations, and Shouting

Offsprog Two has finished her exams for this week- seven already, and it's only Thursday. They are all round, the friends, perfuming and sparkling. They are SHOUTING because they are all VERY EXCOYTED!!!!

They didn't hear me pulling the old laundry basket off the top of the wardrobe, under the impression I could take its weight.
CRASH! A million cassettes fell out, slipping out of their hard clear plastic cases and slithering around all over the place. A fine layer of sneezy dust fluffed up and filled the room.
I sat in the middle of them all, stacking them and investigating. The Chefs live at Basildon! I remember that one, talking to a woman with long blonde hair who called herself a dwarf-lady, and who was dripping in gold jewellery she had bought from her earnings as a film star. There was a live tape from a South London venue where we played with a band called Talkover, a rambling reggae outfit who did a great song called 'Short Time Living and a Long Time Dead'. There were songs I'd forgotten I'd ever recorded, and piles of old computer disks with Akai samples on them; there were videos of programmes I did the music for, and some dusty slides of ancient artwork.
It's all tidy now. I took the laundry basket into the yard and hosed off years of grime; there was a tiny yellow Airfix galloping horse tangled in its woven willow side. I am very grubby, and have been doing other messy jobs while I'm at it- piling up old books to go to Oxfam and cleaning the shelves.

And thinking about cakes: could I make little cakes with guitars on top for the Hamilton Square launch? I liked those cakes at the poetry club and Jamie had cakes at the Union Chapel gig too. They are obviously de rigeur, aren't they?

Before I go, I must tell you about the goslings at Enfield. I took a picture of them but you can't see what's going on in that so I'll tell you instead.
Their mum took them to the fountain in the park for a drink, about seven of them, and they all lined up round the side, dippled their beaks in the water and then stretched their necks up and poked their beaks at the sky, smacking their beaky little lips as the water trickled down their scaly throats, which you could see glugging and gulping as they swallowed.
It was really funny, as it looked like an activity that should be synchronised, but they were all slightly out of synch with each other. When they had finished, Mummy Goose took them back to the grass and they all sat down and had a corned beef and beetroot sandwich... oops sorry got a bit carried away there!

The shouting is beginning to make its way down the stairs so I'd better go.