I Dig Away?

Elizabeth's son Jack is meticulously pouring fistfuls of sand on to his tiny knees. The pram has printed him a lime green spade. Elizabeth reads up and down the conversation thread with her brother, who has stopped responding so might have already dropped his plan to come visit. She imagines a semi organic satellite prowling through low orbit, all its censors and innocent blue eyes fixed on her,. Good mother or bad mother? It can be so hard to tell which is which. They promise each other a grand succession of wine tastings and lunch outings.