50 Hairs of Grey

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Rain has prevented our walk this morning. It is coming down hard and Juno will barely poke her nose through the cat flap and sigh. The only thing that gets her out in the rain is a nature call. Even Max, who is oblivious usually to being wet, shot right back in after a whirlwind turn of the garden. Things have gone quiet now after a tumultuous wrestling match between them that began in the kitchen and worked its way up the stairs to the best wrestling zone in the house…MY BED. 50 hairs of grey indeed, all over the duvet.

I wonder if the neighbours think I have a particularly athletic lover? The growling might worry them though.

Anyhoo, the library calls, the dissertation calls, as does another essay, a workbook, the remains of the portfolio and all that passing a degree entails. But the uni library is not the only one that calls today. Popping in to sort out a travel card at the station later to help reduce the horrendous cost of fares to London for the next 15 weeks, and will nip across the road to the local library.

I have my eye on a book and after looking at the ‘used’ price on Amazon, searched the local library for it and they have a copy. Woohoo. Not spending again.

Enjoy your day people. x

 

 

 

 

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