Scribbling in the margins

Can someone please explain to me what happened to lightbulbs.

entrance to the musee des Beaux Arts The sad story to this is, we discovered that this entrance to the museum is no more.

Welcome to my local park, it’s only small and you can walk around it in a few minutes, but the mature trees gift us an absolute glorious Fall display of colour come autumn. fall colours Lots of burnt orange, red, brown and yellow. west side… east side…

The sun is out.

Out and about in old Quebec.

This weekend we caught a couple of episodes of a new show on Netflix called: Last Meal, in which the host, Josh Scherer from Mythical Kitchen, interviews a celebrity about their lives whilst enjoying what they would eat for their last meal on Earth.

I like to walk, and walk a lot.

Today I want to look at language, and specifically the use of certain words.

I love it when the cruise ships are in town.

This Saturday I had to take the bus to go run errands and pick up some fresh produce at my favourite shops.

One of the more fun things about my parents was how each of them solved a particular family argument.

I can't help myself, when I hear an English accent while I'm out shopping, I automatically orientate towards the person speaking.

“There goes the last great American dynasty Who knows, if she never showed up, what could've been …” I’ve become something of a Swifty these last few years, having discovered the singer songwriter during lockdown.

If Curiosity Killed the Cat ( so we’re told, by who, I have no idea) then curiosity for me, as a child and adult alike, enriched my life and made it fuller and more interesting than it would have been otherwise.

Today is the day I got a second chance when the surgeon—this time last year—removed a foot of colon in order to exorcise a small cancerous growth.

I was reading Craig Mod’s essay, Walking the Length of Manhattan, this morning, which left me wondered about some of the epic walks I’ve done in my life.

I realised something today while sat in the chair at the hairdressers as Suzanne got out the razor.

Today.

Barefoot and dressed in a simple but elegant Chanel black dress, Rachel Cellini, stared at her reflection in the length of display window that reached from floor to ceiling and offered a superb view out into the valley below.

I’m great at writing taglines and teasers [see below] but the hard part is to then translate this into a full length novel.

DRY CHOKING HEAT.

Out of the mists of time, legends are born.

Sanjay Gupta, a slight man of medium height, had Bollywood good-looks that could turn a girl’s head and coax a coy smile.

We ate here and, lunch was delicious. the Bistro 1640 And no, no photos of said lunch.

I swear on my mother’s grave, I am not giving the stiff finger to Frank here.

sculpture outside the palais des congress

While the OH’s coffee has them thinking of past coffees, and remembering other times, other places, and conversing with cats about the weather.

I think I have this weird sense of self belief [see: I Can Do This] in part because I’m a middle child.

I would live in a rambling, rose covered cottage on the edge of a forgotten English village, lost in the mists of time, that only a descendent of the ancient Queen Mab might find if they knew how to call the boat to cross the river, where Avalon is still…

Les Fêtes de la Nouvelle-France started here on Thursday afternoon and is on all weekend.

10 St James's Sq, London November 26, 1852 Dear Mister Turing, You arrived in a fluster on my doorstep yesterday without so much as a gentlemen’s calling card nor, may I say, wearing anything approaching gentlemen’s attire.

I’ve never really held back from jumping in at the deep end, with both feet, not worrying whether in fact I can swim or not.

I talked yesterday briefly about how I love clouds, adore them really.

Truly, it’s quite frightening when you stop to think about it, organised religions are nothing short of zombie cults.

Music has and will always been a huge part of my life.

It’s cool, it’s overcast and showers are forecast for throughout the day.

Way back when I was a kid, and travelling to exotic and not so exotic places, I had dreams of travelling on my own, as an adult, and seeing some of the last remaining wonders of the world.

It’s raining.

“Incy wincy spider crawled across the wall Incy wincy spider doesn’t care at all As incy wincy spider know I won’t squash him Or squish him with a tissue and throw him in the bin.”