What we did for our three and half hours together...

During my shift last night we read lots of books. Lots of Pooh. I read slowly and focused on the slow, sad voice of Eeyore. I thought that might lull him to sleep.


The old grey donkey, Eeyore stood by himself in a thistly corner of the Forest, his front feet well apart, his head on one side, and thought about things. Sometimes he thought sadly to himself, "Why?" and sometimes he thought, "Wherefore?" and sometimes he thought, "Inasmuch as which?" and sometimes he didn't quite know what he was thinking about.

"When stuck in the river, it is best to dive and swim to the bank yourself before someone drops a large stone on your chest in an attempt to hoosh you there."

"No Give and Take. No Exchange of Thought. It gets you nowhere, particularly if the other person's tail is only just in sight for the second half of the conversation."

"After all, what are birthdays? Here today and gone tomorrow."

"Sitting on thistles doesn't do them any Good. Take all the Life out of them."

"Why, what's the matter?" "Nothing Pooh Bear, nothing. We can't all, and some of us don't. That's all there is to it" "Can't all what?" said Pooh, rubbing his nose. "Gaiety. Song-and-dance. Here we go round the mulberry bush." "Oh!" said Pooh. He thought for a long time, and then asked, "What mulberry bush is that?" "Bon-hommy," went on Eeyore gloomily. "French word for meaning bonhommy," he explained. "I'm not complaining, but There It Is."

"I don't hold with all the washing," grumbled Eeyore. "This modern Behind-the-ears nonsense."

I thought reading those lines with methodical melancholy would put him to sleep.

It almost did.

Then it almost did again.

But as soon as I closed the book and tried to put him to bed, he let me know that he wasn't interested.