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Letting a fly out and inhaling the autumn smell of a bonfire, then leaving the window open to fill the house with the smell and memories.

Drifting off to another place while 2 friends moan about same bonfire. ('spect when I hit menopause proper, I too will be a grumpy old woman, Oh gawd).

He opens the bag. "last time you dealt with one of those, you and the cat fought over it, much swearing ensued from both parties, I seem to remember". He hangs it up complete with webbed feet and bill still in its bag, while we consider what to do. Later we find that black cat has made a decision and started plucking it for us. And there was us thinking it was out of reach.

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Some decisions are harder than others

October 25th 2009

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1 of 28 cartoons

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A large red poppy is pinned proudly onto the articulated lorries bumper. Big lorry big poppy.

2 double deckers and 4 single jobs wait in a line to be filled with noise and laughter, knocks on the window make me turn around, and there are 2 of Andrew's contemporaries smiling and waving. Bless you lads.

There seems to be a gang of teenagers at the bottom of the track, 3 cars and a huddle of activity. A large broom appears between the leaves. I'm just thinking there must be better places to have an end of term party, when "hairy mike" springs to mind and whippet and I look on in astonishment at the bizarre scene involving war wounds, created, from the back of the makeup ladies car, and persons with swords in fancy costumes. Restoration comedy involving zombies apparently. The mind boggles.

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I am a bit of a sucker for Mr Charles

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Whippet is horrified by the white covers on sofa and bed at the cottage. I am alarmed and throw a blanket over the sofa and make sure there is a kitchen chair across it at night. He looks dolefully accusing as we refuse him his early morning cuddle and flops down beside the bed sighing. And I use our towels I can't possibly use a white one to dry him off and me too, white should remained un sullied. ( must come from my catholic upbringing, when they talked about purity of the soul, I knew going to confession wouldn't erase all the black blotches that had been incurred).

The gentle roar rolls down the estuary similar to that of the dull hum of a motor-way. I know it's arrival is imminent as a flock of birds swim up river and settle opposite us. Seconds later it continues is steady pace past driving them further on. It fills the main channel then over flows and sloshes up the banks making a lovely sound. The water resembles a rolling boil as it dances in the light before settling. There I have seen it, the severn bore. Now I want to see a really big one.

I take myself to the top of the hill with the cows and watch the sun set and lights in the distance appear. It is so peaceful. This must be off a flight path for I hear no airplanes. Only the call of geese. I am fascinated by the shape of a tree and see the scene as a painting so de focus over expose and snap. Course what it will print like remains to be seen.

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I was looking for a poem about a cat, I fail to see the connection, they get ever-so energetic toward the end, tis amazing.

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3 sleek jets hug the terrain and disappear over the hill their sound rumbling behind like an after thought. Dangerous and deadly thinks I.

He is about 10, and has lined up dinky cars in his yard, oblivious to the drizzle and still in his school uniform. It's is ages since I have seen an older primary school child down in the dirt playing cars. I send a silent plea to who ever is listening. Oh please let me be given the gift of playing granny.

She reads my mind and rings. I fail to spot her in amongst hustle and bustle of the fair. I have a marvelous time and a marvelous headache. But only "sort of 6" reasonable photos.

I collect and relish encounters, the latest was an elderly gent in the Library, who had a passion for old showman engines. And actually made models of them in his shed. He regaled me with stories from the past. In particular about a fair that fetched up in Oxford the day the second world war broke out. It didn't set up camp and trundled off somewhere else.

I call around to see the boy and am delighted to find that the other mummy and daddy there, whom I have never met and whom I like instantly. But I was heartened to spot a book, and find out that he reads. So it was worth the effort and trauma of teaching him to read after all. The self restraint needed when he stuck his fingers in his ears, whenever I picked up bloody Billy Blue hat his reading book, and be encouraging was toxic to my mental health.

She is alight with joy and enthusiasm as they line buckets up to catch the over flow pouring from the gutter. She stands under letting it drip on her head. Latter I find out that her mother probably won't be amused. But I am not repentant as I send her home in school clothes as hers are drenched. How could I not don my water proofs and let those who wanted it experience the rain. Her face sparkles in my memory.

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Show mans engines

and

Landscape of childhood

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The cutest of faces peep out from the top her coat. A miniature yorkshire terrier. It was on it's way to a dog shelter after it's had owner died and she had rescued it. Taking under her wing. I am reminded of my grandmother who was the devoted owner of 3 , at different times, all called Trixie.

Today I am missing the boy, and hey ho he calls in for a milli second.

2 squirrels cavort and chase each other around the school sport field.

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I glimpsed them zoom away, 3 of them. Mork and Mindy had been darting with increased speed and urgency feeding their youngsters. They have finally fledged and will soon be on their way to Africa.

Brown leather walking boots, smell of dubbin and crisscross laces looped around small metal eyelets. Money well spent fourteen years ago then.

The fireman has written a how to do book on Flamenco dancing. He cuts quite a dash as he shows his talents off. People chat and drink, no one looks at the book much it seems, except me who is out of her depth and finds it preferable to hiding in the loo. But one drink and I perk up no end finding lots of people to chat to. Suddenly feeling glad that I excepted the invitation to "a book launch". If I hadn't answered the phone earlier I would have missed the opportunity.

Bless you J for thinking of me.

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It backfired on me. They used the green paint on hands and arms saying proudly "look" and running toward me. They have aprons I have not.

Note to self. Make sure all the resources are in place before embarking on an outdoor art activity.

Twas worth it though they had such fun.

She brought flowers and her enthusiasm. We walked and talked only shutting up to watch the sun slip below the horizon.

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Interplanetary art