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Thursday, 25 June 2009

Sing a little song to you.

The painters came. The painters cut down my ten year old wysteria and have sawed off the trunks of the rose laurel trees to a height of eight inches. They have painted over the bits they were supposed to cement first. They have left six piles of broken branches, cigarette butts (that only makes me mad because I am an ex-smoker). They had to borrow my ladder and a screwdriver and I'm thinking I should have listened to my instincts when I first met them.

I utterly cannot draw at the moment. This one I doodled off after two hours of messing around and oh, we have found the cause of the spectacular snakeskin I grow in the summer. I am allergic to chlorine. Super.

I just read "Ghost" by Robert Harris. A page turner based on a not too distant prime minister and his wife and a ghostwriter.

I have not played the guitar properly for days. What is this? Sunspots?


  1. I get annoyed with builders because I think I'd do a better job than them...well I do that's why it's me that does all the decorating, I don't trust anyone else! Your poor wisteria, have they no sense whatsoever??? It's great that you've made this drawing while under the influence of feeling unable to draw, it's lovely and full of life. :D

  2. Sunspots! I read that the problem at the moment is, there aren't enough of them. Normally they'd be crawling all over it at this stage of their cycle, having their usual effects on our economies, personalities, plant growth or whatever else they're supposed to influence - but they've gone awol. This could explain a lot. (BTW, don't look for them!)
    Robert Harris, yeah, a true professional of his genre. I thoroughly recommend Pompeii if you haven't read it.

  3. Hi Jessie, The place looks like a tip but the cosmos have started growing!

  4. I read Pompei. Do you know the Lindsay Davis (sp) books?
    No sun spots, eh? That could explain everything.


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