I drove into town to meet hubby. We had a coffee and tested our wits with the day’s newspaper nonogram, which had an odd set of letters to play with. We managed a score of 17 words against the 34 the newspaper said they got.
Jauntily walking home hand-in-hand with hubby in the crisp bright day, he turned to me and said, just as we neared our street,
“I think I’ll get the hose out and wash the car“.
I stopped in my tracks…. I forgot the car! ***!!!**&&**!! I left it parked in the town…..
Guess who walked back to retrieve it…..well, it was a nice day and I told myself the extra walk was good for me; and so it was.
nice vintage car….not mine
Courtesy Of Photobucket
A friend was in London recently, so, before leaving decided to go to The Tower of London to see the ceramic red poppy moat. It was crowded at all the different levels from Tower Bridge Station where she was, right to the moat. She said it worth the visit. What, I asked, made it so? She thought for a few moments then said,
“The ceramic poppies were much like other pottery craft work. It was being there in what is usually a bustling and noisy place and seeing crowds of people of all nationalities, hushed and appearing to be deep in their own thoughts, or quietly sharing with others. Everyone there respecting the sensitivity of the occasion“.
I’ve done it again and I honestly don’t think it is a senior moment. I was here in blog land, doodling around other people’s sites and had a thought to write about. I must have doodled once too often, because what I thought I thought, has completely disappeared. I just cannot remember what gem it was that I was going to impart. If I go on writing long enough, maybe my inspiration might reappear, like a good fairy.
Does it happen to you?