feast

[Ostrich metaphor to become apparent next time. Meanwhile: what a bizarro and wonderful creature!)

Hi all. Sort of a blog one-liner, though not of the witty Woody Allen sort. Days rather packed here. Of course, in true FEAST or famine style, this teaching job has neatly clashed with this illustration job, on precisely the same five weeks. OF COURSE they have, of course. This is the immutable law of the freelancer. The rest of the year's diary pages are untouched and virgin-like but these five weeks are full of smudged instructions to self, such as: practice music, make soup, buy ink. I am having to Plan Ahead. Adult.

Speaking of adulthood, I have a moral dilemma I need some guidance on, regarding some people I have inadvertently come to Know Something About in a way they could never suspect. Oh! It is difficult, isn't it, all this responsibility and Application of Judgement. I want to go back to being a teenager with nothing more to worry about than missing Top of the Pops on Thursday evening at 7.25pm, followed by Fame.

Off to visit parents now while the sun is weakly shining. (Btw, my mother seems to be still improving, if not dramatically. Thanks for your kind responses thereto. You are lovely people.)

Till Thursday, all.
T

shoots

Isn't nature amazing? Despite the rigorous campaign of neglect to which I subject the garden, it just keeps coming back.

 

I can't recall what those big shoots might be. Alium? Hyacinth? A Jack and the Beanstalk vine up which I can escape from this harsh and cruel place?

I am suffering from my tri-annual stinky cold. No need to waste sympathy on me, it really is about three years since a cold germ found a chink in the impenetrable armour that is my immune system. I have been staying at home in a rather dull act of civic responsibility. Dublin, you are welcome. Also, I don't feel unwell. I should probably be de-frosting the freezer or learning how CSS works again.

The sun is out today after some of the most awful and frightening weather I have ever seen, on the European Western Seaboard, at any rate. In Mericay, as we like to call it, I experienced all sorts of Mad Weather Phenomena with attendant earnest Extreme Heat/Cold Advisories from NPR metereologists: if it wasn't a hurricane, it was a heatwave, or a blizzard, or a thunder storm. You were either being beaten into the pavement with the heat, or cut in two by the wind. You really can fry/freeze an egg on your bonnet, over there, according to the season. To sum up: your weather is mean and trying to kill you, America. As if you hadn't noticed. 

I appear to be talking about the weather. This isn't good. Also, I just looked up the word "bonnet" to make sure it was English. 

Brain is addled.

However! My mother's doctors have rethought themselves (also doubtful if this is English) and her new medication is working. She feels betterish already! OH HAPPY (if sneezy) DAY!

Have lovely weekends, all.

T