I know how he/she feels

A long and wearisome journey to London as both the departure of the first train and the arrival of the third were delayed. The one in between was just slow. The public health warning about the dangers of immobility was apposite.

I was first confused and then intrigued by this ennui-stricken Irish child's headgear: was the gender-label aimed to be misleading, or reassuring? At a similar age (6 or 7) I would have loved just such a cap as I came to terms with the fact that simply making my hair disappear did not alter my sex. I refused to wear skirts and was positively allergic to the dainty smocked frocks that my mother shed blood to stitch. As the only girl resolutely attending a rural primary school in shorts or trousers I once heard a visitor quip "What's that one, half and half?"
So glad we live in more liberal times. Or do we?

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Passing through Cardiff my thoughts were inevitably with Chaiselongue (Teleri) and her family on this day of her funeral. Those who are interested can read a moving account of the day here by friend and fellow-blipper Barrioboy.