onto the beach, trying my utmost to appear innocent with ne’er a care in the world. All the while hatching a wicked plan. To onlookers my aim is to look as if I am admiring and inspecting the wonderful varieties of pebbles and stones. Looking for all the world like a first year geology student on a field trip! Carefully without a glimmer of guilt I select the size, the shape, the colour of the quarry I am after. With sleight of hand one by one the chosen pebbles (rocks) slip oh so carefully down my left knicker leg. As I carry on my ‘inspection’, no one seems to notice my, not inconsiderable derrière is growing by the minute!
My usual garb of flowing clothes is a foil for my Fagin inspired activities. My game isn’t to pick pockets, but to fill them with the bounty of the beach.
This is the very particular size I am after and the receptacle I am planning on filling.
I carefully cross the road all the while hoping my drawers don’t have a sudden attack of elastic fatigue. Not a cloud of guilt shows on my face... hussy that I am. When all is said and done my garden is just a mere extension of the beach... after all!?!
Derek Jarman eat your heart out.