A rebel without a clue.

Trying to get Lola to wait an extra hour, after we came downstairs at 6, for breakfast... She's crawling the walls and me. Now at 06:55 she's just licked her bowl clean! I am getting her nearer to 7. She can tell you exactly when she is to be fed: she's showing some unusual body language: sitting up and almost pondering my change of behaviour. Now she's back by my side on the sofa, after I'd listened to the In Our Time podcast - which I feel has just gone a little stale, or scraping the bottom of a barrel for subject matter - with still a quizzical expression on her face: such a beautiful face. It's kind of triangular and very symmetrical. It's one which has become fixed in my mind in a manner akin to mother and child (but I don't know who is the child between us). She's just sighed, as the food hits her empty belly, and returned to Snoozeland for an hour until we go on another traipse.  This weekend is meant to be a heatwave - 22°C - so I am going t...

A day of tired exercise. I walked down to the Armouries, and Leeds Dock, before I was advised to leave Leeds city centre as masses were degorged upon Boar Lane, from the Railway Station, in pulses and cycles as various engines came alongside the platforms. A often broken 4 hours up to the Hollies and Meanwood Park before following the Beck back towards town. Ten miles. Yesterday was a blow out. First one in a while. Tonight I am calming the bodily formations. Read up to chapter 18 of Dandelion Days  as Leeds disturbs me with its automobile noise and the gentle song of a blackbird closer to, and more vivid, than the barren drone of the arterial roads connecting nothing with nothing. A good night's sleep and early to Wetherby for Merry Legs, allotment, lawn mowing and other green fingered passions...