Voynich tea party

Started the day with placing my primrose yellow and white, raspberry decorated Converse trainers into a pile of Arthur poo. He can't go for long walks anymore...what..acht..this keyboard..hold on.
 Technical mayhem as usual.
Guitar class on Wednesday and told in no uncertain terms to stop bringing in music that is for levels way above me. I adore Jordi...but as usual he is right. This year I am to study what he tells me...and he means study...and to come to the class prepared...and I can play whatever I like at home...but in his class I am to play what he says.....
His eyes are the colour of mango chutney.

The guitar group was on Thursday. No comment.

It rained Noah's ark rain yesterday. The thunder was actually scary rather than dramatic. Piles of cushions and suitcases to stop Arthur crawling behind the TV, stereo, video, Wii, .He always heads for cables in storms. Absolutely unplugged every plug in the house and survived without any appliances blowing up. The telephone man showed me how to disconnect the outside line after the last storm when I blew up my foot.

The guitarist who really believed it.

The sound is not in synch but it adds to it somehow. Hats off to the guitarist who never missed a note. I love this stuff.

Potato eyes versus lemon eyes.

You know how potatoes have "eyes" that grow into sprouting roots, that in turn grow into new potatoes?

It's the same with lemons. This is growing about six meters away from where I am sitting...not much happening here then.

But there is here...
http://photooftheday.hughcrawford.com/1995.htm#1995/1

Fishwife

fishwife singing in the dead of night

Henry and his invisible wife next door have discovered a new set of marathon beer drinkers. This is not good.
School started a few days ago so the roads are full of assasin mothers again..in even bigger cars and trucks, plus a plethora of new glitzy electric cars filled with dangling Elvises and fluffy fans. Why have I  never belonged anywhere?

Guitar class starts on Wednesday. Hooray.

Paco plus girlfriend and Alice who used to be Frank all turned up at the same time to say they couldn't have coffee with Patrick. I have seen them try to organise things many times before so I slunk back to the wacom tablet before they even knew I was here. I have never seen the point of coffee mornings either. Will someone please come and rescue me. Thank you.