I don't remember a time when Livvy was like us. Colleagues at a private school, when I first met her, we chose to sit at the 'naughty table' despite the ever increasing complaints from those at the top of the hierarchical chain. Standing a petite five foot nothing, Livvy had lived a lifetime of sorrows and joys before blowing out 25 candles. Some said she was cursed, others joked, if she were a horse she would be shot! But for those who were allowed close, we knew you never put down a thoroughbred.
Personally, I never understood Livvy's obsession with those awful toe socks. I could cope with the special vegemite sandwiches; antibacterial wash for every occasion; walking stick and fancy scarves but those socks will be my undoing. Livvy promises me she will have a special pair for me to wear, saved for the reading of her eulogy. It will be my first and last wearing.
