decorating

sticky paint trapped in the creased skin of my knuckles.

a productive afternoon.

Green eggs and ham

I do not like Green Eggs and Ham

I do not like them Sam-I-am

we chorus in familiar unison for the benefit of a bemused baby

through the kitchen wondow

grey squirrel with it's tail twitching violently perches high up

watched below by a disappointed cat

figures not included

(observed while waiting on someone's doorstep with a package)

amongst the strewn takeaway leaflets the porch is randomly ornamented: three small cacti in painted pots, well tended; a sheep; a mosaic candle holder, the candle burnt; a tiny, glittery fairy embracing a tiny, glittery unicorn; a delicate ceramic lidded pot with a flower; a lump of rock, not pretty, maybe with sentimental value; a glass paperweight with bubbles and a purple spiral at the centre; a gaudy green figurine of a leprechaun; and most strangely what appears to be a bit of Warhammer scenery, just a small base with a rock and some synthetic grass.

today's stone

a bright washed-out winter sky and a raucous troupe of sparrows squabbling in a bush, just for the hell of it.

waiting to come inside

the cat's eyes reflect like cats-eyes

through the pitch black of the landing window

wednesday

an elderly man digs the garden in a tweed dressing gown,

he doesn't seem to notice the cold

extremely loud woman on her mobile phone

talks about nothing to the entire street

dawn chorus

the first faint chirping accompanies the ride to work, it is still very dark but somehow feels a little lighter

ride home

riding home early afternoon, I close my northerly eye and the sun, already sinking low behind the straggly trees, flashes red and green in the other.

friday 7th

amidst the driving icy sleet a single flake alights on my nose... and is gone

a river of stones

I found this and liked the idea. that's all. this is a place to post them.

warmth and a prickle of whisker against my lips and the lingering taste of a watermelon jelly bean, we should kiss more

onscreen her golden hair, so artfully wind-blown, reminds me of once being tatty and carefree