Not so much cutting edge as half-cut and still sliding.
Friday, 2 August 2013
Roses came over today for lunch, though we didn't eat it until late, what with one thing and another. We drank wine, made a bonfire and walked the dogs. And talked, of course.
Tail end of the bonfire.
Ben and Rupert. And Roses.
And my contact lens has gone to the back of my eye again. I was just putting it in this morning when Russell sharply told Rupert to stop (chewing Ben's cuddly bone). I looked up and it vanished. I'm a bit fed up. It took several days, last time, to re-emerge. It seems to do no harm, it's just uncomfortable and I will have to wear glasses, which is a nuisance. I hate the barrier that glasses give when I'm talking to someone and I can't read or do anything much except see with my distance glasses on, so have to keep putting them on and off.
Delightful people with a little too much time on their hands
Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.
Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?