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Wednesday 17th June 2015.

The week so far has been a spinning top...the handle has been cranked that much there is no slowing down so far this week....i have become the cat on the hot tin roof as i bounce, lurch from one hour to the next drooling over seconds lost, while spiders dance erotic dances in hob nailed boots across the cobbled streets so much so even my tiny red van is speechless, no Chinese whispers nor cat amongst the long grass in  gunning gears to advance and throttle around the next bend to find sugar delights or melancholy madness in traffic lights, bus stops, old broken shop fronts cusping over flaking paint...mixed inside bright sunshine and pouring rain in a bucket full of rampant frogs....called English weather....So Goeth...

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bichoose
bichoose

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