The house I am currently cemented to has a wall in the garden which has a cleat I had to fight my annexe-builders to keep. What do you want that rusty thing for there? they groaned at my next quirk. It was too low for a washing line, too high for a cat (they are thinking of having them restricted to leashes in gardens now. The Men's Only club are hotly debating this new neighbourhood rule.) It might not look like anything you could secure a vessle to, but you don't need more than a dinghy at the ready, once the floods get serious enough and one has to paddle off ins graue hinein. However, now I have found myself a boat builder, I might consider upgrading my cleat and preparing for the real water works to come.

The saddest picture ever drawn.

I would have to agree, however ungemini it may sound, it must be that time of life, that the very thought of moving around (which it always boils down to once you leave) is not exactly on my bucket list, either. I think I might settle for one final move which is going to sound quite as decadent as anything already annoying the socks off me: (to I don't care where) to an incredibly well built abode with a simple array of modern conveniences, a reliable, fine-tuned heating system, plumbing that you would never guess was there, a library for its main feature (where you can organise over 2000 books and not just store them) and not a fence in sight. People call me difficult. I don't see why. But then I'm not an engineer and this must be an incredibly tall order, after all.

Now, I had a momentary bit of luck accessing your cunning link, and was just starting to browse through some very familiar sights (a watermill, a doggy I was only thinking the other day: might he still be in your life, and some beloved cars) when it all fell away again as if by some self-destruct, burn after reading booby trap to leave me with a blank page (no matter how often we refresh).Fascinating when that happens: now certain the next picture would have shown me a very useful knot.... So we'll try again at some unsuspecting time, real casual like...

Clearly, the rains have come down. The (three day) spell is over and the wonderful diamonds in the sky have been washed away. Some might put it sec: things are coming to a head. For mystic Meg here, that shows in such little silly petty interruptions to my flow. Up a lazy river it hardly feels like travelling.