Fiddle
The is what Bex did tonight in her orchestra. and you know what? it was really good. A repeat performance tomorrow will be good. too. And then when I got home I was really hungry so made pasta - well to be fair the pasta was already made, I jut had to cook it and knock up a bit of a source.
Been pretty busy this week, hence limited blogging.
Sorry folks.
Thursday was London. Which started ok, but ended in a bit of a slide! Due in part to trespassers on the train track which added a couple of hours to the journey home.
Oh well.
The trespasser was a suicider for a while - and so I didn't feel too bad sitting around in the cold. But when it became a trespasser I stated to feel annoyed. So a suicide is better than a trespass. That doesn't really make sense.
This week I've also been thinking about the difference between isolation and insulation. The difference between diversity and discrimination. The difference between art and junk. The difference between the French and English.
So I'll finish with a French joke, following my week of French - which maybe I now think isn't really a joke:
How many Frenchmen does it take to change a light bulb?
One. He holds the bulb and all of Europe revolves around him.

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