As a child I spent many an afternoon in my grandmother's garden after school,
waiting for the neighbour's granddaughter to come outside. At some point I decided
the wooden fence separating the two properties needed 'something' to look just right,
and that 'something' was the scratching of the wooden planks with sharp pieces of
broken glass so as to get rid of the unseemly, upper layer of the wood. Ioana A.,
the neighbour's granddaughter, would scratch on her side of the fence and I on mine.
And I would listen enchanted to everything she had to say about anything.
Everything somebody even only 3 years older than yourself could say was utterly
fascinating at that age, even more so when that somebody was a pretty, interesting,
more mature and experienced girl. Otherwise we didn't play together or hang out, we
really didn't have much in common, but we sure tried to scratch that fence 'clean',
although I don't remember us finishing more than just a small section of it.
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