Nuts

As so often happens on a Saturday the postman came early-  earlier than he does any other day of the week- and rang the bell and got us out of bed. Ailz says she was glad because she was having a horrible dream about how she and I were still at primary school- and she was driving us there and- well- she's forgotten the rest.

I think the box he was delivering contained quack medicine (aka vitamin supplements).
 
I did do some housework yesterday. I sorted the houseplants out. The line of pots along the window sill by my desk now looks intended. Also I finished reading Vile Bodies and spent some quality time with my latest jig-saw. Ailz and Ruth had a fine day- kick-starting the British economy with a visit to Boundary Park Mill in Colne. The sale prices were silly and they came back with bags and bags of designer gear. Ailz bought me some nuts.

In the evening we watched a concert from the Barbican featuring ancient, American folkies singing their greatest hits. Judy Collins has a mane of swept back, silver hair and can still hit the high notes. She was talking about hanging out with Cisco and Ramblin' Jack and the rest of the Guthrie crowd in the Village, back in the day, and how there was this scruffy young guy there she got drunk with sometimes, who she thought was kinda pathetic, called Bob Dylan.

Orb

Carl sent us a photo from inside the "haunted" house. It shows his younger daughter with an orb on her shoulder. He says he found it very difficult to load. Ailz found it tricky to manage too. She sent it on to me- but by the time it reached my computer all the light had been drained out of it- and it was unreadable- though a companion picture of Carl's son with his family came through fine.

You know what, I can take a hint....