the culpeper boys at prayer

 

william campion esq at goudhurst church

 

chunky headstones in goudhurst church yard

 

the old lime house at goudhurst

 

cheese smugglers approaching brighton

 

the view from the h&b office window

 

arundel castle

i'll need to walk across the fields for a decent view

 

low-tec bike rack at bailffscourt hotel, climping

 

noisy resident at bailiffs court hotel, climping

 

ugly minds equals ugly football

wayne might profitably spend the next month doing some yoga and getting his ears fixed

i doubt if much can be done for his delusions ... he's seen the video and he's innocent ... ok ?

plane, privet & lime trees in flower

these perfumes thicken the air around our place ... i love them all, but it's a desperate time for anyone with hay-fever ... the scent of a flowering plane tree is very like mimosa

battersea dogs and cats

having slept through the alarm, whilst dreaming about long journeys, i happened to pass this wall just as the sun was playing tricks with my eyes ...

 

the real slim shady, here's one i doodled about twelve years ago ...

... its been gathering dust ever since !

 

a stripey corner at the new residence

 

on being reasonable ... one from the archives

upon re-reading a letter written at the time, I recall that on Christmas morning 2004, our first conversation was on the subject of territorial rights.

In answer to a complaint, & with only one eye open, I declared that because I am one & a half times bigger than The Loved One, then I am logically entitled to occupy three-fifths of the bed.

Furthering this watertight argument, I made the point that the golden rule of etiquette in unequal relationships is never to disagree with anyone who imagines they are being logical.

With your own innate clarity of reason, I feel confident that you will agree with everything that I have said & that I can count upon your support, should it become necessary for you to take sides !

the emotional blackmailer's cognitive behavioural therapy

stand before a mirror, preferably a full length one elaborately framed in gilded carvings, as you might find in any rococco palace

contort your face in to a grotesque expression of wounded petulance, with body-language to match

pitch the voice in a throaty kind of self-pitying whinge that fills the world with your disappointment & rattles the window panes

and say loudly after me ...

"i've got NOTHING to complain about !"

fire insurance plaque in rottingdean high street

 

purple stuff below rodean

 

orgasms in the mouth part viii

the genius lyn in railton road created a sorbet using freshly picked raspberries, topped with more freshly picked raspberries ... now that's what i call extreme unction

iconography quiz ... your starter for 99 points ... why does death have a laurel tucked behind his ear ?

 

heavenly exemplar in brightling church

 

jack fuller's pyramid at mid-summer

 

jack fuller's pyramid colonised by daisies

 

ockenden manor

 

two brighton & hove re-cyclers having a larf in lansdowne place

 

nice lettering at st john's hill

nice lettering outside clapham junction station

 

uncannily perfect timing

cycle over from putney to lavender hill to paint the front of a friend's house whilst the loved one heads for brixton by bus to meet people

about four or five hours into the job, as i arrive hot & tired at the top of a fully extended ladder with a brush and some masonry paint, the top of the ladder begins a very slow slide down the wall and i say to myself quietly but audibly, "something's wrong !"

gathering my wits after that awful second in which time slows to 10% of its normal speed, i begin to climb back down the steps of the moving ladder & to think about how to land, especially if it twists and throws me sideways

but then it stops sliding and as i climb down, the loved one's cheerful voice says "saved you" and she's standing with her foot against the bottom rung and her shopping bags in her hands, having just turned the corner in time to witness my predicament

designed by katrina ...., there's posh !

 

between waking and sleeping

the hyperactive talkaholic loved one arrives in the bed just after i've reached the point of deepest sleep

through my cerebral fog she's talking about the wedding we'll be attending in a couple of months

she says, with all the incandescent brightness of hope, "i'll need a new dress ... and a hat"

i mumble, whilst struggling back to semi-consciousness, "would you like to borrow my crash helmet?"

arrested development ... yer actual throwback, almost as far as ...

 

... chardin

 

clock made in pontllanfraith c.1820