Saturday, 21 November 2009
All is well with the world again. I have ignored Mr Bach today. Henry gaped at me like a fish this morning.. His mouth opening and closing until he gasped "Muy bien." I don't know what keeps him going.
The grandfather clock has left. Very sad. It ticked its way all through my life...and many other people's lives.
Thursday, 19 November 2009
I am seriously fed up with everything being in cardboard boxes. I don't know where anything is and it seems we are down to two knives and three forks. A great big lump of agate from the hills of Scotland is missing. The computer is wonky. There are too many cables and plugs everywhere. Actually, I think I may be a bit cross. I am practising a piece by Bach and it sounds like a lawnmower , tac a tac a tac tac a but not at all pleasant to listen to, Arrg, arrrg, double argg.
The invisible wife next door should be waking up soon.
Here's a drawing from the external hard drive. It's me in a good mood.
Monday, 16 November 2009
I'm sort of trying to make a pin here. How do I get a shadow on this?
A brilliant blazing sky. The albanils singing as they continue to build the monstrosity of a villa by the back garden wall. The smell of incense drifting in from Heidi's massage room next door. A giant box of cookbooks and CD's which collapsed last night on the floor beside me. Not me...I didn't collapse.
Brain cloud meeting later. I've missed a couple while in Toronto. We are an odd bunch. The lady in charge wears patent leather, mustard yellow, imitation crocodile, shoes. Who is the oddest of the bunch, I ask?
Sunday, 15 November 2009
You have to listen to this...really. Why doesn't the whole world know about her?
Visited Alice who used to be Frank and gave her a very smart handbag from Sears for looking after Arty while I was away.
Henry arrived back in the middle of the night. His car is parked roughly a meter away from the pavement. At least he remembered where he had left it this time. I caught a glimpse of the invisible wife the other day. A smear of a pale housecoat and a soft thud of a flip-flop as she dissolved in the morning light.