Sport 11: Spring 1993
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I went to Karitane, seeking the inspiration of fecundity. All my childhood friends were conceived at Karitane, that little town the couples visit when they marry. Nice place they have there, too, river mouth and soft ocean beach especially when the weather is appropriate. The singer occupied a tent out on the lawn.
His song was hopeless stuff, emotional turmoil I suppose, not to be reproduced here.
‘People down this way say “crib”,’ I said to him, correcting a vocabulary item. ‘Of course,’ said Maria, ‘“crib”, it’s quite well known.’
Yes, I admit it, Maria was with me for a week or two, just testing the water, tip-toeing in.
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