There's a Grandad who keeps approaching me at the playgroup saying that it's good to see another man there. I tell him that I'm fine being around all the Mums, I spent many years of my life in hyper-masculine contexts so this is still a refreshing break for me. The conversation took some interesting tangents from there. One moment we were talking about the different playgroups in the area, then we moved on to the subject of Quaker meetings and next he was telling me how he liked to roll around naked in the snow. He seemed really eager to shoehorn this into the conversation. Still, it left me thinking about how I need to spend more time observing rather than dictating conversations. I love the crazy flow of them, especially when it becomes a kind of battle between personalities in order to dictate that flow. There is an unstoppable forward momentum to a conversation and the process itself can either be a collaborative effort to keep it flowing in a specified direction or a constant tussling back and forth - like a pair of firefighters operating one hose while quibbling over which window should be doused first. I don't know if the velocity is spurred on by language itself or if it is language that struggles to keep up with out throttling thoughts. I have no desire to roll around naked in the snow.