Another day in the life of...

...and I'm not writing about a very good book by Ryszard Kapuściński.

The sword in the stone, well not quite. The stone in the sword, pork variety sounds more like it..
And just as the Volteraine speed balls are playing "Hannibal" with my guts and once again the sun is pressing the brownies my sons finally come home, and I receive two shocks.
The first being that my eldest returns the money I gave him yesterday and says he hasn't bought anything to eat as he couldn't buy everybody something...
..and the second is the youngest is running a fever at 38,5 degrees, has a headache and is burning up with only two sandwiches in him the entire day..
The youngest is usually a wee ball of energy with comments that follow him like "he can't even walk in a straight line without bouncing off the walls", so to see him creep up into a foetus position and look preconception at turbo wastegate temperature just aint fun.


The traditional midsummer is looming and the invitations have been dropping through the door...err, NOT! Well, to cut a long story short no real surprise.And once I've been told at first hand who has been invited and how much fun it's gonna be and drop the basset hound look for a fish, I realise just where I am in the "don't forget to send him a x-mas card" conversation.
Not to worry, best plans are laid at the last minute..

No shit sherlock that today will be one to remember for different reasons. Some of those reasons can't be written, as they are locked downstairs in a basement of sorts. Lets just say that expectation and rejection mixed with realisation make for a great cocktail.

The ship which I thought had come to shore and moored has obviously had it's ropes cut and is drifting in a sea of awareness despite believing the contrary. A year after a separation and I feel it's time to take a step back to heading into the ocean of uncertainty again and wait and see what happens as to be honest I seem to have come to shore, headed for the closest grog pit and lost all bearings which I'm paying a heavy price for.Time will cover the tracks I left in the sand.

But now it's out of this poetic justice I pay for falling into every trap and cliche and not listening the first time.
Plans have to be made and followed up.Foundations of papermaché have to be dug up and replaced with concrete. Lessons have been learnt for sure.


Okay, well if your used to reading this blog your used to be thrown into the dark side of the moon, which is my name for the brain of course until you mix up a cocktail and brighten it up.
It's been a while since I had a night of Masi and its about Masi time again.

Trust me, despite the stones, the fevers and all the rest, things are on the up and depsite the scripting sounding negative its only to move up and on.

Huge Positive is the new inclusion of a painting in the kitchen and I actually looked in Duka today AND asked for assistance with the intentions of buying something for the flat. I'm I finally a lost case?(Didn't really want to admit this but I've seen some plants I'm intending on buying...let the games begin!)