The tree tops are swaying in the wind, they look like despondent, manic rag dolls.
The rain is raining.
The wind is blowing.
My feet are freezing.
I can hear the television from two floors down.
Thursday lunch in a pub.
Friday night a Turkish in Hackney.
Tonight a French in Twells.
Tomorrow back with the Sunday show. We’re talking left overs and property and the importance of Variety shows.
Then it’s back to home for a country fare . I love the animals and stalls when I can get over my disgust at the locals pulling at their forelocks when the gentry walk by. They open their garden for a day. The peasants versus the landed gentry. Yukety Yuk Yuk.
On Monday I will recover from so much excess. My acid level is higher than a cheap battery from Halfords.
I’m writing, thinking, hoping for a miracle and cleaning up after all the beds have been slept in by various friends and family.
Love it. it’s the opposite of being dead. But right now I’m getting in the bath beause
The rain is raining.
The wind is blowing.
And my feet are freezing.
2 thoughts on “yukety yuk yuk”
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Hi Jeni
Love your description of the “despondent manic rag dolls”, I feel like that sometimes!
Thank you Ruth for your comment, it has encouraged me to give it a go. My old stiff bones in fact are begging me to give it a go!
Love June
My life somehow is in parallel with yours, clearing up after the daughter and husband have left after announcing I’m to become a grandma, feeling old but I’m not, circle of life my other half says, true of course but I still feel young even though the mirror says otherwise. Why is it when you reach 60 you think about things you never bothered about before. Help!
Love
Angi