Big news: last night I booked a cinema ticket.
Dear old Chapter is open again. How I've missed it.
I thought 11 o'clock on a Wednesday morning would be a fairly Covid-safe time to go see a film.
Less big news:
Looking for something in the car glovebox this morning I came across this lovely thing and it made me wistful for The Continent:
On a ten minute walk to the post office it started off sunny, then it thundered and I was caught in a downpour that turned into hailstones and biblical flooding, and by the time I got home the sky was blue again:
This afternoon's lecture was on economic anthropology:
Somebody posted a photo on Twitter of three squirrels fast asleep in a window box:
My poor cactus is dying. It has taken on a Leaning Tower of Pisa angle that increases by the day and the bottom half is the colour of rotten.
The top half, however, remains the colour of May. I'm praying for one last blossoming before it shuffles off this mortal coil.
I once read that if you manage to kill a cactus, you shouldn't be allowed to keep houseplants. I've managed to kill three in my time. Sorry cactii. You just always look thirsty.
Today's Photo: The Miracle of a Single Flower
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