August 16th, 2020

Sunday 16th August2020.

There are times when i wonder why; The crazy week in my blue uniform and tiny red van did not stop when i handed in my keys on Friday night with a heavy sigh and relief. Expect the unexpected they say, pick a pocket or two, dust off the crazy working weeks dust.


Blow a few Dandeloin clocks on the way to Nottingham and so i did, but that was last week in a feast of a weekend, i have simply not had the time to pause here and plop a few pictures taken last weekend, but today seems right enough to pause for thought and ask ones self indeed Why...Perhaps one should not drift back into childhood with glee to often or the crazy work dust will blow it's own kisses....
Last weekend was Wollaton Hall with that childish glee in full swing a small fair was on the grounds however the IT-Flu...was made clear to my childish mind only to stand and stare this year smile laugh with hope that the IT-Flu is somewhere in the clouds above only...next year.
I did so want to ride this and perhaps it is some sort of twisted fate for poking out my tongue as the ride went around without me the stamping of the childish feet as the music blared the sun shone. That yesterday was a cannon ball of cloud and drat in large letters...


I did manage to arrive at the ice cream van and how strange to stand there as the crew were masked up a plastic sheet covering...with a small hole just big enough to slip out an ice cream cone such a strange summer indeed....However such was last weekend in a rich sunshine weekend...that one could skip too...and be thankful one cannot see to far what the future holds...
And thus this was yesterday...i did manage to reach Nottingham...i did manage to pick up returning family and on the way to a picinic lunch in Wollaton Hall...This tiny Mini..thought bollocks..perhaps it had heard whispers that after 14 years it was time to think on some newer wheels perhaps it was to attached to the family and really did not want to end.....its life in below... surroundings, perhaps i should not have taken the picture below on Friday afternoon of this

Resting place for tired old cars with gates tightly pad locked and by the looks of mother nature trying to reclaim land that once was hers and as i took this picture through it did not look as if anyone had walked in here for years.Thankfully i have always had breakdown cover for anywhere in the country...and two super lads helped me get the old girl home and thankgoodness i had...some white wine in the fridge and what will tomorrow bring is unknown and best left there....

To all whom pass this way love and peace take care..xx

Sunday 16th August2020. Eventide....

It is rare for myself to tempt myself to cruise across this vast ocean of empty space twice in one day...in any form of words, perhaps because the day is almost over and i have one more sip of fine South African white wine left in the glass besides this here machine to the world.....and perhaps the turntable is playing..Do The Reggae..in the spirit of 1969 during the rise of the Skin Head and the Doc Martin Boots....a double CD..i picked up this past week...Perhaps there is only one small slip of wine left..as the Pioneers sing Better Herring... i was no skinhead...even in 1969..the fem inside me was beginning to reject such things as the skinhead moon stomp and the brash furious outlook on life skinheads were portrayed to have by the frightened Press whom hated any advance of the working class rising above their station...I was growing in favour of the soft touch of nylon red Panties, yet quite why the music drifted into my head and has remained to this day is something to dwell on with a Glass in hand...there are no answers, as i take the last sip of wine...however long i dwell on such a subject, I am simply whom i am, having drifted down amongst one of the forks in the woods of a Robert Frost poem...i wonder if he liked Reggae music...
And tonight i want to finish the weekend with a touch of lipstick and the sounds of Sam Lee singing..Lovely Molly quite what he thinks of Transvestites is unknown but hey life in the fast lane...is simply an bucket of fond memories which push life along in the thoughs of clogs and shawls... within a Tip Toe Through The Tulips sung by Tiny Tim...in the far distance playing across the horizon,Tomorrow is 51 years since Woodstock.
To All whom pass this way love and peace take care...xx