Sleepwalker

I know I've posted this fellow before but I just wanted to rant. Well, not really. I'm in a good mood but the phone rang this morning and it was a builder who is going to give us an estimate for retiling the ghastly floors.
He wanted to speak to Patrick and I said, "He's not here right now but you can pop round today when he's back. What time would be good?"
"What?"
"Can you come today?"
"Well...it's a fiesta today. I'll have to arrange a visit with Patrick."
"You can arrange a visit right now. What time can you come?" This is to give us an estimate right?"
"Yes."
"What about tomorrow then?"
"Well it's Sunday tomorrow."
"Monday then (fer Gud's sake)?
"I work on week days. Tell Patrick to call me."

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR as he puts down phone. This makes me mad. The blokes here will only talk about business with other men. We ladies do not count. This really makes me mad as this particular lady is paying for the blooming job.
It also makes me mad when I transfer any money from my old account in Scotland to a joint account here that the bank always puts the transaction in Patrick's name. Even though I repeatedly tell them that my name is NOT Patrick. So every transaction I have ever made in Spain is in somebody else's name!!
There, rant over.

The sun is out and a very small bird sat on the wall outside and sang and sang.

Music Lovers

Aha! The weasels are coming out the woodwork as Spring approaches. A couple of weeks ago an ageing pair of hippies turned up in a sixties Volkswagen looking for Henry next door. But Henry, since he remarried, is more elusive then ever.
"Remarried?" they cried with heavy Bavarian accents. "What again?!" They drove off but came back and parked outside his house for an hour . In shock at not having a free place to stay anymore I suppose.
Then, a few days later the Police turn up asking if we had seen Henry or his new wife. Not in plain clothes this time, as they were a month ago, but in full "We're six foot four and yes that is a gun you see on my belt" uniform.
Well, anyway, the German electrician who just fixed the sitting room lights says Henry's new wife stabbed her ex...which is kind of odd because our neighbours on the other side are also German and Mrs neighbour on the other side arrived on our doorstep two days after they moved in to say her husband had fallen on a dagger. I spent the night with them in the emergency department of the hospital because they didn't speak Spanish. (He survived)
Blimey, like living in one of those soap operas here.
The Boob Lady is back on the other side of the road. I call her that because she used to walk around topless all the time..."Bonjour Rosie!"
It's quite an international street really.
Guitar this afternoon. Melodia para dos guitarras (Schuman).
Oh, and finally, you have to watch "American Cousins".

Spotty Dog

Done in Artrage. It has great stuff like glitter and oil paint, all sorts of effects and is really simple to use which suits me.
Have you heard of "Music of the Spheres"? I hadn't either but now I have, my brain has skedaddled in a million directions. Far too much to digest all at once. I'm off for a big glass of chilled white wine.
Alice who used to be Frank is trying to get us to go to a dinner party at her place to meet an English lady with marital problems. My heels are firmly dug into the ground and I refuse to go. I am only dealing with happy people this year. I mean, it's only been a week since the last one. I am NOT going.

Skeleton Man

Oh, oh, I feel a song coming on.

He will bring a fishy on a little dishy.

Here's a version of Moon River on guitar.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U4xHtQ9IWP0&feature=subscription

I just found the fish pie drawing on a CD of drawings from last year. I had forgotten about it.

The First Snowflakes

Personal batteries restored. Listening to John Martyn on the headphones. What a magic voice he had.
The above drawing is a detail from the illustrations I am doing for thirty one pieces of music. It came out utterly different from what I had envisaged, which convinces me even more that sometimes one can tap into some kind of startreck land where you can pick up a piece of music, borrow a line to draw or dance with. That may make me sound like a moron but you know what I mean.

Two dancers came to stay.

I've been balletrinaahed. My friend Micheal and his friend have left for Barcelona. I laughed so much in the last two days I ache all over and I feel like I'm eighty four. It was great. We imitated every single person we have ever met and believe me Michael used to be a ballet dancer so he's met some weird and wonderful ones. Crikey and a few stories about Nureyev that would make you blush.
Anyway, I'm sort operating at half speed today....