@olympicsrock
i can no longer remember all the poetry and prose I used to recite. I sometimes recall an odd line here and there, especially snippets from The Bell Jar whose writer famously said Every woman loves a Fascist.
Stunning photograph. I didn't notice the longest day slip away.
I'm at home today. (My younger daughter is away.) I had a dream last night (don't usually remember them) that all my family were dancing, mainly the can-can, and then flinging themselves about in pure joy. Wildly moving to happy music. I felt such pleasure and pride watching them, but I wasn't dancing (I love dancing). And thinking about it now - I feel quite sad.
@Fraaahnces
I never get the opportunity to get my legs out. (Never wear skirts/dresses.). That's because my brother (a million years ago) teased that my legs look like dead spotty turkey flesh and slightly purple - which is possibly worse than white. Whenever I did wear shorts when young, he would say oh look, our *** has got the milk bottles out. The skin on my shins looks like dry fish scales. My legs devour moisturiser/body butter. Makes no difference. I never have time to sit in the sun. Whenever I get time for a rest it's dark, or freezing, or torrential rain, or foggy. 🤣
Well, aren't I feeling sorry for myself - I'm going to make another coffee and go and sit outside, instead of ploughing through all this work that I'm behind with and have a doze on one of those bloody ridiculous black recliners that he bought a month or so ago. (Probably actually won't get time.) The grass needs mowing (there's so much bloody grass) the house needs disinfecting and the laundry is piled higher than the pyramids. I'm never at home (I really miss having my grandsons here because I can usually get on with little jobs - they're so easy to have - my little treasures. Urgh - went into my Gollum impression there).
Oh - my husband cooked last night! He usually does all the cooking (it's not that great but if I told it how it was he'd never cook again). We sorted that old chestnut out fairly quickly. I'm not clearing up/washing dishes if I've cooked. Never have, never will. My dishwasher and I have a great relationship - woe betide anyone who stacks it incorrectly. However, I've very little idea who the cooker is - I occasionally throw stuff at it on a Sunday and hope for the best as that's when we have lots of family and guests around, but then there are lots of people available to do the dishes (I may need to supervise the dishwasher). Hopefully - he will cook again tonight and things can gradually return to 'normal'. Next step is to get him out of the house during the day so I can have my house back. (We had steak last night, and fruit salad afterwards - cherries (my absolute fave) strawberries, melon, pear and peach.) He's trying to spoil me. Wanted to know if I want a new car (casually threw that into the conversation). I think he's fed up of the spare bedroom (we have three). Don't think for a second that we have a massive house. There's just us. It's a normal (1924) three bed semi - extended over the years, the ones with the massive gardens to the rear. Been here 30 yrs. We have a large hall, two separate sitting rooms, a playroom for the children and a lovely sunny dining room (and a massive kitchen which I hate cleaning, mainly because of the mess he makes when he's cooking - can't have it all.) Our house was built on ancient orchards. We still have lots of fruit trees at the bottom of the garden in the old staggered arrangement. Sometimes one falls over and that's that. The old damson tree looks really decrepit but we still get a glut of fruit roughly every fourth year. My mum used to make tons of jam from them. We mainly have pear and apple left. We put fruit out in a basket at the front of the house in autumn and people take it - as do a lot of our neighbours.
Just found out that a very good friend of mine's daughter is also expecting twins - we're twin, twin nanas (that's not bananas).
I'm rambling.
Back to the laptop!