Wednesday

| 2019 | 07 | 03 | daisies, thunderstorms and something in between |


I stood deep in the pool with burned skin and awful highlighted hair, reading the latest of a stack of classics I'd been hoping to finish the year before. They were hard work and I was frowning slightly in the sun.

I was mad at the white rind on the sweet clementines we'd bought, their delicious flavour so long in the sampling.

After not very much time in the heat, I'd had enough.



These are possibly my favourite geese on the thames.


> a cat is always on the wrong side of the door.