Having my coffee at the balcony. The coffee tastes better than it looks, by the way.
The composer’s star in Vienna underground. Gets trodden on each day, poor man.
Today my three-year-old male relative picked a sharp piece of wood and threatened to stab my cat. I protected the cat with the modest bulk of my body. Now I’m the Evil Auntie Alla who prefers kitties to kiddies. That’s right.
Visiting the fountain of youth. (Hopefully.)
Why is your neighbour’s garden always nicer than your own? (In my case possibly because I can’t be bothered with the garden.)
I wonder what my favourite colour is. Could it be brown?
There’s lavender growing in the garden.
It reminds me of clothes moths.
And times long past.
I get it that I should put coffee grains in the grinder. But what is the symbol for what I should not put in? Dice??
A tame squirrel in a park being fed by a stranger.
Sometimes I want to apply the Magic Concealer all over my face to magically conceal it.