
So here is a picture of Herr Fafner, my incense-holding dragon, except now he has a feather in his mouth. This is a swan feather, left on the grass last weekend when I was in Stratford. The downy bits at the base are so soft, that if you stroke them, you can't even feel them. I think it looks like a plume of smoke... kind of.
Okay, okay, here I go... storeroom, look out, you are about to be organized! Grrrrrr... here I am, a daughter of Boudicca, a child of Nature, a quaffer of Guinness, a hay-sniffing fondler of feathers, a consumer of chocolate... stand back and be tamed!!!
UPDATE: The store room door is shut and that is the most that can be said for it. AND I had a Guinness. And honestly (here comes another swing of the pendulum) I feel quite triumphant over my attempt to be disciplined. All this work will be there for another day.
So where was this store room? Home? Work? Your parents? You forgot Child of God. The procrastinator in me salutes you!!
ReplyDeleteHome... I don't store anything at my parents' place.
ReplyDeletePROCRASTINATORS UNITE!!!