Welcome to the attic of my mind. Mind the stairs, click the light on and have a rummage around my thoughts on writing, the art of everything second-hand, the natural world, music . . . just about everything. Probably not much about sport.
Tuesday, 6 November 2012
Remember remember
Actually I had completely forgotten it was November the 5th until friend Alvin asked what were we doing for it.
Since I had burnt the massive pile of garden trimmings the day before and Ezra is still scared of fireworks, I said 'nothing really'. In the end I made another huge pile of garden debris, Garth brought round some Leclerc fireworks which went phsssst rather than bang, thus not terrifying, and Mark made a super curry and parkin.
A fun evening which must have perplexed our French neighbours as no one burns their garden rubbish at ten pm. Left the fire to fizzle out and went back to the house to eat more cake; discovered that the dog had eaten it . . . Una who is now possibly nineteen and lives to hoover up anything edible or inedible.
I went downstairs slightly anxiously this morning, wondering if there might be a scene from 'La Grande Bouffe' but all was well. Just an old dog re-hoovering the floor for any vestiges of parkin crumb.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment