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| Portable breakfast -- rice crispies and a banana (and tea, quaffed at work) |
It is August. And I am in bed with a hottie... bottie. I know that the Scotland in the summer routine has been well and truly exhausted, but, -- to steal a little from the great, late ee cummings, "here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life": it is summer in August and I am in bed with a hottie… bottie; and
it isn't the moon that's keeping me from the Perseids, it's the clouds, the rain bloated clouds.
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