Have done it, Nanna. Thumbs up. Sudden sad stab of thought that the parent bush will now have been dug up and mawl mangled. Daresay there are foundations of new houses already across what was Nanna and Grandad’s allotment. Miss them though I do, with regular, sudden, surprising midday tears and a sort-of gape in the belly, I am glad they have not seen this. Glad it was just the buddleia that caught it.
My copy of Nanna's favourite rose, Josephine Bruce, has its last two flowers of the year; one
for Nanna, one for Grandad.
Brushed by frost. Gently regal.
Turning around, saw the watcher was being watched.
There’s a warm radiator below that windowsill. You can see Major Tommy’s contempt for damnably foolish humans who stay out in the cold.
Mercury Retrograde from today til the 20th. A lot of fluster and nonsense about how it snarls up the system. I’ve found that working with it – using the ‘re’ to rethink, rework, reconsider – pick your re’s to suit – makes Me retrogrades some of my most productive thinking and working times.
That said … it’s the play tonight. The fabulous Mr Mercury rules, among other things, communication, commerce, kids and schools. Tonight I’m directing 35 Brownies in a play that’s part of a Christmas Fair – to sell stuff for children’s charities. In a school.
Wonder what Neptune’s up to. Must go and peek.
1 comment:
I told him. He said he was aiming for Maggie Smith, stuck his tail in the air and presented my with his bumhole (never quite clean) as he stalked out of the room.
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