Wednesday, July 12, 2006

Roses, jungle and pile of stones.

1. The washing-up liquid at work smells (to me, anyway) faintly and pleasingly of roses -- it's Cusson's Morning Fresh.

2. Walking down a path almost lost in chest-high bracken. I imagined what it would be like to be too small to see over the top, to only have a view of stalks and underbrush.

3. Finding a mysterious cairn at the side of the path.

After shopping, second to last bottle of red and Jupiter.

1. Arm-in-arm, rather pleased with our bags of shopping, we cross the park. 2. The second-to-last bottle of red in the cellar turns out to b...