Is it true?....
....Has the rain actually stopped? Hell, I know the garden was in need of a good watering but that was bloody ridiculous. A whole week of cold, wet weather is not ideal for June. The heating clicked on, the house smells of wet dog and all my shoes are damp. I think it was around this time last year that the crazy heat started, seems unlikely this year.
We babysat for the grandchild at the weekend, she was a total joy, giggling and smiling. We took her and Keith for a walk, dodging the showers. She greatly approves of Keith splashing about in the lake, less so in being confined to her pushchair when there is much to be explored. It was lovely. Him and me had a restorative snooze when she went home- we were totally knackered.
My lovely old friend depression has popped in to say Hi, totally pissed off with it, but being sensible and getting advice. I went to the Dr for a meds review expecting a decrease in medication. When I explained my thoughts and feelings, she immediately suggested raising the meds. I was a bit gobsmacked, but when she repeated what I had told her, I realised that she was totally correct (as usual) and it was indeed depression again. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck! Oh well, at least I know now
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The garden has taken a bit of a pounding from the rain and I need to do a bit of propping and staking. We seem to be raising a small flock of wood pigeon squabs, greedy sodding things take over every feeding space available. I have never seen as many robins as we have in the garden this year, which pleases me greatly. We also have regular visits from the nuthatch, which is very exciting. My veg patch is doing ok, apart from the runner beans which are being eaten every time they dare to show a leaf. The main issue at present is cat shit. The damned stuff makes me gag, Keith, however, regards it as a delicacy and it's a race between us to see who gets it first.
My reading matter is pretty much wall to wall murder, with a little Brutalist Architecture mixed in for balance! I wonder if people living in badly maintained brutalist buildings are more likely to commit murder than their non-brutalist living counterparts? I would think that being surrounded by decaying grey concrete, on a sink estate would drive anyone to murder!
One of Northampton's ugliest buildings is long-listed for a RIBA award. The former sorting office has been turned into a school. This shockingly grim, brick, prison-like edifice has been wrapped in a frill of shiny punched metal. Glittering a turd springs to mind.
We babysat for the grandchild at the weekend, she was a total joy, giggling and smiling. We took her and Keith for a walk, dodging the showers. She greatly approves of Keith splashing about in the lake, less so in being confined to her pushchair when there is much to be explored. It was lovely. Him and me had a restorative snooze when she went home- we were totally knackered.
My lovely old friend depression has popped in to say Hi, totally pissed off with it, but being sensible and getting advice. I went to the Dr for a meds review expecting a decrease in medication. When I explained my thoughts and feelings, she immediately suggested raising the meds. I was a bit gobsmacked, but when she repeated what I had told her, I realised that she was totally correct (as usual) and it was indeed depression again. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck! Oh well, at least I know now
The garden has taken a bit of a pounding from the rain and I need to do a bit of propping and staking. We seem to be raising a small flock of wood pigeon squabs, greedy sodding things take over every feeding space available. I have never seen as many robins as we have in the garden this year, which pleases me greatly. We also have regular visits from the nuthatch, which is very exciting. My veg patch is doing ok, apart from the runner beans which are being eaten every time they dare to show a leaf. The main issue at present is cat shit. The damned stuff makes me gag, Keith, however, regards it as a delicacy and it's a race between us to see who gets it first.
My reading matter is pretty much wall to wall murder, with a little Brutalist Architecture mixed in for balance! I wonder if people living in badly maintained brutalist buildings are more likely to commit murder than their non-brutalist living counterparts? I would think that being surrounded by decaying grey concrete, on a sink estate would drive anyone to murder!
One of Northampton's ugliest buildings is long-listed for a RIBA award. The former sorting office has been turned into a school. This shockingly grim, brick, prison-like edifice has been wrapped in a frill of shiny punched metal. Glittering a turd springs to mind.
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