My dad's ears

Forgot to take my camera out with me today, so you're getting a completely pointless but pretty picture of Scotland.  Enjoy!

 

I’ve got my dad’s ears (not literally, that would be horrible).  My sticky out ears have been one of the reasons why I’ve had long hair most of my life.  I made a discovery today.  My wig hurts when I wear it for hours as it presses my flappy ears to the side of head.  When I went round to my sister’s today I hung the wig on the coat stand in the hall to give my poor lug ‘oles a bit of a breather.  Thankfully she had no other callers this afternoon – they might have thought she scalped people on entry to the premises.

My sister and I went for a walk in the park (wig in place).  She was on a bit of a mission to dead head the daffodils in the park.  OK I’m exaggerating; she dead headed about ten of the thousands of daffs available.  Nevertheless I expected a park keeper to pounce or interfering passer-by to try a citizen’s arrest.  Neither happened, which was just as well as I’d forgotten to take my camera and would have been very disappointed to have missed that photo opportunity.

Back at base the house painting has continued and it’s looking very spiffy.  Unlike my wig hanging on a coat stand.

In other news, I cooked dinner tonight for the first time in weeks and weeks and weeks.  And ate it.  Yay me.