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Saturday, 9 May 2009


Manga Studio Debut. I like it.

No Bat No Hat

Grey, cloudy, all is still. What will I call my autobiography? "I'm just popping out for a moment...oh no, wait...I'm an agoraphobic. I'll just stay right here."
It must be full moon or something. I can't even get on my bike at the moment.
Anyway, here's a link to a guitar duo who I think are amazing.

Thursday, 7 May 2009

Yoo Hoo

I think the Manga Studio demo is nearing an end. You can't save in the demo version but you can press the print screen key and then cut, copy and paste in Photoshop.
The sun is out. The snails have now eaten nearly all the sweet pea seedlings.
Henry next door borrowed our step ladder and has apparently disappeared again and left for whatever country he hides in. However, the painters who are in there now say they will give the ladder back in a few days. Painters who don't have a ladder?????

Wednesday, 6 May 2009


Spent all morning trying to draw a storm but with no joy. Here's some old birds I dug out...and now I'm thinking...mmm...I wouldn't mind making a tapestry weaving out of that. I inverted the colours just for fun but actually think I prefer these colours over the originals. Or a carpet...

A friend in Belgium sent me this link today. If you can't bear to hear Julie Andrews singing from the Sound of Music then don't bother.

and here's my favourite Mary Poppins video...

And not watch this if you are an Ainsley Harriot fan

Tuesday, 5 May 2009

Escape from certain death number six

So, I am sprawled under the carob tree on a hammock, which I don't sprawl on often, as being a Scot I was brought up to believe that it is bad to do nothing, and so inevitably feel guilty when doing nothing, which as it happens is fairly high on my list of things to do on a regular basis.
Well, one end of the hammock is attatched to the carob (beware of falling beans) and the other end is attatched to the two meters trunk of an old mimosa tree and as I am cursing the fact that I have ordered a dud book from Amazon by reading a review that assured me it was a page turning, physcological thriller but in fact is about a bunch of wimps who leave London every weekend to spend time at an old country house bequeathed to the biggest wimp of all time. Anyway, they all sleep with each other ,split up, make, break up and then one gets shot and another commits suicide by lying down in an ice pond and we never even get to know if the shot one survives.
Well, anyway this is what I am doing when I heard what sounded like a gunshot and I know what that sounds like because a man up the road got shot by another man because one of the sons kept sitting in the wrong seat of the school bus. I may have mentioned that before.
So, with uncanny Scottish second sight I leaped out of the hammock...but too late...BANG.
The entire mimosa trunk cracks again and keels over exactly in line with me. Thank goodness for hockey training in my youth. I got out of there with half a second to spare. I never thought being a right wing would save me from a crushed ribcage, ha, ha. So, thank you Miss Jenkins

Sunday, 3 May 2009

Message in a Bag

The snails ate a dozen Cosmos seedlings overnight. The invisible wife remains invisible. I have not been playing the guitar enough this week but the sun is out.