This was the scene first thing this morning. Lorry arrives with important delivery, cement mixer with a death wish leaps out into its path - BANG! Don't mix with the cement.
Roofwork continues. Had an email from my Big Bruv who lives in America. He's a roofer by trade and says to let the guys know that Big Brother is watching. Any sign of a poor job and he'll be letting me know.
Now I'm not one to air my dirty laundry in public but when I went up to bed last night there was Delius in his favourite washing basket (filling it, of course), Babooshka on my pillow, Babeski at the foot of the bed and Phoebe in the laundry basket. When I come back to this earth I'm coming back as one of our cats.....whoever said it's a dog's life got it completely wrong.Today I've been to Anglesey with my little sis to see my little bruv as there was no-one to look after me (still not deemed safe to leave me on my own....). It was a lovely, breezy day but no walk on the beach as the tide was in. We had lunch in the 'Pieces of Ate' cafe by Timbo's boatyard. Now if you think that's bad, I was served in the bank yesterday by - and I kid you not - Teresa Green. Straight up, it was on her name badge. Her parents must have had some sense of humour - Not. Well, you wouldn't, would you?
1 comment:
A Shirl, asked again whether I'd found Booshbarn, had I got Google? No, yes. I'm Brenda's son, Peter.
Interesting to read your tale. There was a fascinating autobiography of a brain surgeon serialised on Radio 4 last year. Take care.
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