wytchcroft

this was compiled for a friend's blog - but (typical me) didn't fit the brief. So.... here it is instead (and covering some familiar ground i'm afraid) seven days in the week of wytch.

Seven:  

Stop Dave stop…

Windows…

My mind is going – stop Dave…

Windows…

Bloody windows.

Quite when I became one of those absentminded harassed looking types who have to lock, re-open, relock, re-open and check and counter check the situation of doors, possessions, windows, I don’t rightly know (your honour).

It seems to be a work thing. I swear I’m never that befuddled at home… maybe I have responsibility issues. Damn, I was hoping the power (over the building at least) would go to my head (see below). But no, I am obviously a child. (wails).

Hey ho, I’m sure my darting lurching scarecrow of a figure will be amusing some random observers anyway – and I like to spread a little happiness, a little mirth.

Bumped into John. He’s a sharp dressed man for sure. Reminded me about the diary/blog. Gulp!!!( Read more... )