THIS IS HOW IT LOOKS NOW!
But most of all, can Mr California Man see that the sun is shining in both pictures?
The sun may not shine here all of the time but it does shine as you can see from both the photographs!
We are awake at STUPID O'CLOCK again!
Well anything is STUPID O'CLOCK if it is before 6am if you are not prepared to be awake.When I worked nights,I loved working nights but that was because I had slept during the day and was ready for being awake all night but this is a form of torture.Thankfully today is the day the childminders take Beauty so I will be able to have a nap whilst they go and play somewhere like JUMP.
Can you see why Beauty loves this place?It is an amazing place for children(and their mothers!)
They took Beauty to Techniquest a few weeks ago which she loves equally as much and I intend to buy a family season ticket so they can take her more often.
You can see why Beauty loves Techniquest.The adults look like they are having lots of fun too!
I have just been in to check what Beauty is doing and I am happy to tell you that she seems to be thoroughly enjoying watching a repeat of Antiques Roadshow.I think Beauty may grow up to have similar interests to mine!
One activity I really must get sorted out for Beauty is cycling which was recomended by her physiotherapist to help with her joints. PEDAL POWER is situated in Sophia Gardens in town.they are able to cycle around Sophia Gardens,Pontcanna fields,Cooper's Field and Bute Park.But hopefully not all on the same day!BUTE PARK
A poem I remember reading in school.
Down the road someone is practising scales,
The notes like little fishes vanish with a wink of tails,
Man's heart expands to tinker with his car
For this is Sunday morning, Fate's great bazaar;
Regard these means as ends, concentrate on this Now,
And you may grow to music or drive beyond Hindhead anyhow,
Take corners on two wheels until you go so fast
That you can clutch a fringe or two of the windy past,
That you can abstract this day and make it to the week of time
A small eternity, a sonnet self-contained in rhyme.
But listen, up the road, something gulps, the church spire
Open its eight bells out, skulls' mouths which will not tire
To tell how there is no music or movement which secures
Escape from the weekday time. Which deadens and endures.