Sunday, 25 July 2010
Get a load of these cats. They're solid.
An old sketchbook page which my little daughter (then) decided to add her own stuff. She did great drawings and diagrams.
The boob lady's husband is painting his garden wall today. He is dressed in what the colonials called "whites", i.e, his shirt and shorts are of such dazzling whiteness they positively glow as if under U.V. light. There is not a speck of paint on him. Indeed, if you were to meet him you would gladly allow him to operate on you.
Yesterday, the town celebrated the first day of fiestas by curiously closing the main road and streaming the traffic off into the two small sliproads. The main road filled with the assasin mothers (because of their driving skills) and many, many water based games. It was quite curious, not a man is sight.
The struggling drivers heading South or to Barcelona, were not amused by the traffic arrangements. But the locals are in party mode. Fireworks tonight and Paco and Jan the Van opening things at midnight with wailing harmonica and guitar.
Arthur will claw his way up the back of the sofa as always. Is there valium for dogs? Can't leave him alone on a night like this.
Only 34 outside...