Dance to the Music of the World.

The children have been busy with their homage to JG Ballard. Making our little home into a wonderful, magical, mystical land; thankfully one that keeps on the right side of fantasy without the horror of corpses in the freezer. Together they make an interesting team, the slight one likes to draw vampires alongside the eldest's fairies and flowers. Trying to find the beginning and the end of one of their fights is like unravelling an impossible knot, the only common denominator is that it usually starts and ends in laughter. They are best left to it I say, as long as there is no drawing of blood; they'll find their own way.

The television broke this week. Instead we saved up our watching time for the fine experience that is Hyde Park Cinema; I got all Lynchian and took photos of red drapes and asked my 6 year old if the pre screening soundtrack was from 'Lost Highway' or 'Twin Peaks'. She scanned her memory of Dad's ipod to answer, correctly I might add.

At the beginning of the week the slight child made me chuckle when she asked if she could phone dad for 'A sad song', 'Why do you want to listen to a sad song?' I asked. 'No mummy, Sad Song' she replied singing a perfect redition of Lou Reed. This is just a little time after the eldest used Tom Waits as her point of reference to describe a gruff voice.

On some occasions you just have to talk about the things that you like, and if that means a little conversation with yourself then so be it. Like plugging in your ipod and nodding along in a crowded place, sometimes a little of what you fancy is all that you need. Now excuse me whilst I read the Tin Drum to the baby.