Quick, tiny and everywhere. Interested, you might say. Nosey, someone else might. Yellow duster always to hand – for close attention, you understand, to particular window-sills, outside which anything at all might be thought to be going on.
Sometimes it was necessary, of course, to step outside, shaking the cloth over the rhubarb – for clearer hearing and better view – shafts of warm sunlight catching dust-flecks, signet ring and watchful eyes, her own and the ginger cat’s on the stone garden wall.
Housework’s delights! Nothing got by her cheerful aliveness. Many years have passed since. And still we miss her.