hard times
Granny has some sort of bug, her arm still aches so does her head and her gut, after a day again in front of telly getting news that bombers were US - or at least ours. SCARY. She has spent today mostly sitting on a sofa with a book. Dragged herself finally to her feet to make a chocolate cake to put in the freezer for the autumn's descent of many scientists. Too late, discovered that she had made, not the chocolate cake of cakes she hoped she was making, but the second grade version she'd tried out before. Definitely that kind of day. It will just have to do. And at least it gave her the excuse to eat chocolate; which will do her head and her gut no good at all. Too bad. Even second grade chocolate cake smells good, though. Any moment she will have to fetch it out of the oven.
Though the blue sky - and with it the sun - has deigned to heave itself over our side of the hills the past two or three days instead of leaning tantalisingly not to say insouciantly (can't think how to spell it, no dictionary to hand, dyslexia strikes again, too bad) against the rear of them, leaving our stretch of country covered in a murky belt of cloud, the wind continues to blow relentlessly. Last night, all night, it set a door banging and banging. She was sleepless on top of everything else. So not much here. But she will point you to a brave blog by one of last Thursdays survivors being put out on the BBC website. And hope to do better tomorrow.
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