Not THIS sort of day but that sort. You know, the sort of day when it's cold, the cat - Her Highness Henrietta Cartier-Bresson - looks at you askance, sidles close for a cuddle then swipes you across the back of the hand with her claws. She didn't do that [today] but I thought I could tell that was in her mind - such as it is.
No, this sort of day when it's windy and wet is when one takes a stroll along the road to nowhere with Toots or whoever. Whoever being Toots in this case. That sort of day - like today is when it is cold wet and sleety and one has to drive the length of the island in the dark to earn a crust. I'm back now sat in the Summer Parlour, heater on, HHHCB curled up on the Chaise Longue with her backside towards me. Eh? What's that all about then?
BTW. Listening to fine radio programme by Paul Jones on Jack Bruce. here.
And now go and look at boats here where there's a little mention of this blogette too. :-) Many thanks Sir.
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