nor'west

the hot wind sears the plains as it makes its way to the sea. gusting at over 40km/h it bends trees in its wake.
today is not a good day for a fine hairdo
this morning, while i had other things to do, i was once again in the garden. i could see my beans dancing with the wind; soft ballet coreographed by nature's whimsy... me, i was wandering about, string poking out of my pockets like a true peasant, trying to secure everything to anything in the vain hope that i might save something.
and it's not just the beans that dance. in the wings the apples play their part, swaying somewhat violently with every new gust.

monty's surprise lost 7 apples.

to others, 7 is not necessarily a magic number. it's only significance is that on the scale of this year's harvest it was a part of the majority. and, as far as fables go, it was worth a week's accomodation for a doctor outside of the republic.
when you translate your apples into real terms, it's a whole new story, eh?!

but, busy is as busy was, we were. in the garden. after countless voyages to the beach to get sand i finally got to start laying the bricks that many hands cleaned last week.
inside the house it's painting season again; walls, ceiling, window, trousers and shirts given a fresh coat of paint in the old office in preparation for new guests.

and otherwise, other than the occasional bout of madness brought about by the wind, all is well in the republic.

xx
mama b