Disgusted by my dimness, she flashed me a very grown up look, slipped her hand into her sister's and flounced away towards the barbecuing burgers.
At the edge of the field of more serious play, children in charge of a long rope twirled together, making long, strong arcs in the air with their tireless little arms.
I was, as they say in the posh, green wellied parts Adidas Prophere Core
It's true to say that wasn't all I watched. Rugby begged close scrutiny too, by virtue of its speed, strength, competition, superior sportsmanship. and yes, you're right, legs.
of all depressing impressions to the contrary, there actually did remain leafy little idylls where children hadn't yet fallen to the disorder of being six, going on 36. And I was in one of them, watching kiddies skip.
Their friends ran through, skipping and jumping to a rhythm formed by whatever rhyme was being sung. I couldn't hear what it was.
All in all, a veritable feast for enthusiastic exclaimers.
These days I'm used to being at the receiving end of indulgent smiles offering something close to pity. They're usually prompted by my unguarded and rather too frequent exclamations of pleasure which used to embarrass me until I worked out I could more easily live with the smiles than put a lid on exclaiming.
The point was I'd seen nothing like it since Moses was a lad and even then it was considered beneath the dignity of cool kids, who sold kisses for Spangles.
Catch a glimpse of kids playing
CHILDREN were skipping. Not necessarily an earth shattering event, I'll grant you. They won't be interrupting tonight's Coronation Street with a newsflash; George Bush won't be going soft on Iran as a result. But it was a big deal to me. I haven't seen children skip since 1968!
Lovely Langholm. I hadn't been there since the winter when, quite out of the blue, I'd been introduced to the precise if quirky art of snow sniffing and other off beat country weather forecasting tricks.
Lovely legs were shown off by rugby's finest, champagne was courtesy of Edinburgh Woollen Mill's inordinately generous hospitality, sunshine was God's own and the skipping was amazing. Boys and girls together, it was the old fashioned, singing kind of skipping.
of Wiltshire, gobsmacked. My timbers were shivered.
"It means you don't have to pay. You just queue at the face painting tent."
There was no snow to be sniffed on this day. Wall to wall sunshine, grand big lads with lovely legs, the odd glass of champagne or three. and children skipping.
It was the kind grown ups reserve for children who come out with something er, childish.
"Wow!" I'd exclaimed stubbornly having established exclamation as my right. "That's just beautiful. Look at that. Isn't it just beautiful?"
What was not to love? A June sun was beaming gloriously on a late April day, outstripping any artist's attempts at colour contrasts as it struck the Cumbrian hills for a delicious dappling and added opulent lushness to heavily blossomed trees edging our route through to Langholm.
"You do make me laugh," she said. "You really love all this, don't you?"
The occasion was the Langholm Sevens, high spot of the little town's sporting and social calendar.
The point was that, in spite Nike Uptempo Black And Red
my reckoning it's permissible for a lady to look, so long as she doesn't touch.
But only for the gobsmacked. Langholmites, who look after childhood, don't do sadness.
"Skipping, yes. and your point is?"
And still the children skipped.
It can be sad to see childhood as it was meant to be and find yourself so surprised by its playful, jaunty joy that you're hurled into involuntary exclamation.
There had already been one of those moments that day; a smile evolving into a laugh which Nike Air Vapormax Day To Night was a touch more than pitying.
The point was I'd spent far too long in the wrong place a harsh, urban place where childhood had long ago been lost to preferred Game Boys, hours of mind bending television, hurling bricks at firemen or artfully smashing a couple of telephone boxes before bed.
Should she cross the line, she'd be no lady, would suffer the indignity of having far too much fun, enjoying life rather more than could be considered decent and attract condemnation as no better than she ought to be.
A pint sized girl with blonde hair was insisting I guess her face, at the time.
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