She has never forgiven me for once wrapping up all her clothes to throw into the wind in an effort to be the big John Wayne my school boy self craved, i must have left a single thread behind which the three fates have spun down the years, to remove the Big John Wayne up into the unreachable heights singing Champagne Super Nova in the sky,pointing their gnarled fingers whilst mouthing the word Bitch...as punishment for the extra work i caused them.
But hey..tis bank holiday Monday the sun up over the yard arm..the garden calling..and a host of golden daffodils not quite Wordsworth more of a Manchester tin bath in your face explosion with inverted comma's and much much perhaps to much imagination, will crawl over the sunshine pouring through the window, as i foster a cheerful mood with a dot comma WTF.....
