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The man on the radio is playing Leo Sayer who's singing about Orchard Road. Got today's quiz right ... Edward Scissorhands ... didn't enter but I'll put a virtual star on my virtual star chart. Weatherwise the seaweed is looking less than hopeful ... grey, undecided, brooding if yesterday's thunder rolls are anything to go by. The traffic lady was as chirpy as ever as she reported on vay-hicle problems across the Emerald Isle.
Signor Floyd loped into the kitchen this morning with his usual loud mowling entrance. Once positioned on the table, I popped his food in front of him. He began munching with gusto. Then stopped. Pondered. Began eating again. Stopped. Pondered. Examined one of his back legs. Flexed his foot and furiously licked his toe beans before pulling a face that said 'Ooh! Nasty!' Gave me a filthy look. Got off the table and sat with his back to me and stared hard at a cupboard door.
I hope the cupboard door feels that it's as much his fault as apparently it is mine.
The shiny metropolis awaits ... I'm furiously trying to book myself in for use of 'the umbrella.' Still no raincoat. Or waterproof boots. On the plus side, whilst rummaging for something else, I found an umbrella an old friend lent me some while back. Not that I'll be using it ... it's large and black and with the wind behind it would take me Mary Poppins' style to who knows where ... but I am thinking of painting the wooden handle red ...
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Blackpaper: Se perdona para estar en paz, no para seguir aguantando.
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Escutando essa obra do Jota e novamente me emocionando no buso. Saudades dos que se foram e gratidão aos que estão aqui.
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😭 Por favor.
Se puder, se tiver essa possibilidade, doe.
Se não puder, ore, ore muito!
Parece com o fim do mundo.
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