Monday slash Tuesday slash unseasonal coldness

Shit weather.  That's been our summer so far.  That piss-weak little silver smudge sliding around on the water at left there is about the closest we've come to a solar presence in the last three months.  It's not that I love sun- I don't- but adequate vitamin D is cool too.

A walk around Back Beach yields the disgusting/compellingly beautiful oil slicks left by the fucked-out old busses overcharging the cruise ship trade.  And a flourishing musk rose.

And a penguin.  In effigy.  In a wheelchair.  On a boatshed.  It's a SJW bonanza.

I apologise for the standard of writing and the paucity of my observations.

​It's just that I'm bored with my own faineant xmas blobiness, and mired in that peculiarly tractionless stage of building planning whereby one draws and explains essentially the same shit over and over again to no discernable effect.  Nothing is happening, nobody can tell you anything for certain and no structures are even close to being erected.  

I'm all about the erecting.

We begin the year without George Michael.  Still can't quite believe it.

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