I’d like to thank all (OK, both) of you who clicked on the beer graphic and ended up donating last month. I spent many hours pondering how to spend your probably not particularly hard-earned dollars. Was it to be Paden’s Introduction to Old Occitan? Or should I indulge a life-long ambition and purchase a season ticket for Espanyol? In the end I had a couple of drinks and bought a cheap lamp for the cat to warm her bum. If someone donates something this month, I will consider plugging the lamp in and turning it on.
As will be clear from the accompanying photo, the purpose of this exercise is to transfer merciless mog’s sense of territory to a slightly less strategic bit of real estate. Apart from her trying to knock the
cursor fly off my screen, she’s started defending herself vigorously against me when I come back from lunch and find her crouching on my keyboard, under my lamp, listening to Pastor Dick’s version of Doris Day’s version of Que Será, Será on my media player.
(LY: yes, of course, but bring a hose and a ladder.)
- Swallows & tents
“When it came that we wanted to move the host, a swallow had nested near the apex of the tent.”
- Pheasant playing dead
Dead playing pheasant (gamekeeper’s grave on the N estate in what used to be called Central Southern England before Labour, inspired
- Dr No
- Is your bitch laughing behind your back?
This video shows her when she knows she’s being watched: Move your monitor back and lie on your desk with your face
- The power of love
These two energetic logos are on one of my favourite day-off wanders: from the Plaça d’Espanya through the old backstreets of