Friday, June 04, 2010

Bees, in the sun and compost bin.

1. Bees bob against the window. Bok. Bok. Bok.

2. At lunchtime, to stretch out my legs in the sun and read for a while.

3. On a hot day, a week before it will be emptied, the compost bin smells of conifer branches.

Consolation, Effra and icing.

1. I flee Tunbridge Wells and its water woes for a day of wandering London with my aunt. A bit of Turner, a bit of Constable and some miscel...