Knowing That Dog, it probably looked more than usually like a thrown stick.
Either that or she’s reverting because she’s been with us for so long.
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I had a lovely day yesterday
I was taken to a lovely crafty shop where my rehab assistant has some of her splendid felt pictures for sale
The shop has fleeces on one side and cloth on the other
All spun and woven on the premises
I looked at the price of a 4ozs hank of wool and nearly fainted
28 yo-yos a hank!!!
Then we went to a garden centre where I got seeds for black violas and a beautiful dark brown cosmos fell into my basket
It smells of chocolate
Really like the smellof really dark chocolate
I also found a climbing hydrangea that has flowers of pale pink and cream in colour
And a white Japanese anenome
The bed by the terrace is starting to look wonderful
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Today’s games are in a church hall. There are notices everywhere for things like Baby Barnacles and Going Deeper into God.
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Baby Barnacles?
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They meet twice a month at 2pm on a Wednesday. But it is assumed that the reader knows what they are.
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I know what a baby barnacle is, I just don’t see why they would be in a church hall. Better off on the hull of a ship, or failing that some other reasonably solid underwater surface.
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And when they grow up they turn into Ugly Ducklings, so the sailors do tell
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Don’t you remember the miracle of ‘The Baby Barnacles of Galilee’ ??
Sheesh.
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Darkest Linslade?
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That’s what I am assuming. Though darkest linseed might tie in with the baby barnacles.
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Just tried washing floor with beer. It won’t be the Next Big Thing, but might come in handy when they turn off the gravity.
Mired in gloom/self-pity. And beery residue. Please send Pitchers/captive bolt, according to personal taste.
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Hair I know about; floors not so much.
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I tried washing the bedroom carpet with red wine a few months ago (yes I do sometimes drink wine in bed. So…?). That was not a success either.
Me too, it must be catching. Wanna share a pitcher? No, on second thoughts, one each?
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If its gravity were lower, the beer would be a bit less sticky.
(Sympathetic tseep.)
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I imagine feeding the current hair beer would be most imprudent: it would probably start eating combs. And pillows. And chasing rabbits.
Oh, very definitely. Sorry about your gloom, me dear. The Pitcher that Cheers and Mightily Inebriates is the boy for me. And as for its temperance cousin, I think Father Jack speaks for us all: “Feck off, cup!”
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So, it’s w#rking for you, Gus?
I am very sorry for gloominations, both. Really.
Our forecast for today was set fair - very fair. Our actual weather has been the usual light-heavy rain. This morning, yer shepherd’s granddaughter bee declared that it would rain and it did. It’s not rocket science, apparently.
Soo xx
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Er, no. It’s meteorology.
I’ve just eaten some lovely seabass with caper butter. And baby potatoes with more butter. (I like butter.) It was all yum.
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I was thinking about the propulsive devices that get the satellites up there (she said vaguely), TFM. Honestly, our forecasts are so off beam that I wonder about the technology behind them.
Your supper sounds right up my street. We had bean and veg fajitas, which were okay. Tomorrow will be baked cod, roasted fennel and potatoes and steamed broccoli. Butter may be involved 
Soo xx
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What time should I arrive?
Meanwhile, I have been bending my head trying to think of an ‘-ology’ word for rocket science. I feel sure there is one but my brain won’t oblige (nothing new there then).
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