… is getting out of hand.
As you can see, we’ve changed the car in the foreground (and several times too) but there’s still a good 6 feet or so of wasted space behind it.
As for the car in the background, that’s not moved now for over a week I reckon, still losing half a car’s length of space.
But apart from that I was up at the usual time, breakfasted, and then started sorting out the books.
And I reckoned that my ship had come in when I spotted a copy of “Si on Parlait des Miracles?” and, upon opening the flyleaf, the author had signed it with a dedication to Marianne.
So hot-footing it to an on-line second-hand book shop, I was going to make my fortune.
However, there are about 50 of these copies for sale there, and erery flaming blasted last one of them is signed with a perishing dedication.
I’m surprised that the author didn’t catch writers’ cramp.
Ahh well.
So on with the motley and as I was preparing to go out and do some shopping came a ring on the bell.
The agent immobilier was back with one of the people from yesterday and all of his family – including a young kid of about 5 so Strawberry Moose was once more in his elephant.
Once they had all piddled off I went to the shops but I didn’t stay long, especially as I had forgotten my coolbox. And the rest of the day has been one of relaxing – I even made myself a coulis of kiwi and soja milk.
So tomorrow is Sunday and it’s a day of rest. I’ll go for a walk and say hello to Marianne, I reckon.
