Excursion and a craft day

the ramp design

ooo

 A lesson in how to make plaster moons and pigs

Holiday

a little something whilst stuck in traffic

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Valerie Martin waits patiently for me to get to her

Moments later, Ian Rankin falls in love with me

"Nothing's off limits to the right kind of writer," says Rankin

 I grasp hungrily at this moment with Margaret Atwood

She does not fall in love with me.

ooo

hometime

Snails and cake

This yellow cake is called sfouf.

I delight in eating yellow!

Out for a little jaunt

looking for the best plants in the garden no doubt.

So none of my cake for you.

For a dear friend IX

 it's Jan!

 and the alien!

For a dear friend VIII

sanding

  smoothing

bronzing

sanding

smoothing

bronzing

For a dear friend VII

égarement

This is the work of Jan

but you don't need me to tell you that...

It was very windy, and I got scared

  

It made me sad one time when I told my father how much I hated the wind, and he told me how he loved it: it reminded him of his childhood, of where he was from.  He and I have very little in common.  Hair colour, I think that’s about it.

This is one of the fruits from a tree, brought down by the wind.

It caught my eye on the first morning of wind and I decided it would be mine.  But there were too many people around to judge me as a weirdo for stopping to scoople it up on that particular day.  Plus the wind was vile and I wanted to get indoors in case it carried me off to a land that most likely would not be Oz.

So for a week I checked up on it.  It blended in with the other twigs, moved about the pavement a bit, eventually onto the road and then finally into my pocket, as my beautiful twig!

Thanks wind!


Perhaps one day we can be friends