It knocked out the fuse; two slices of Hot Cross bun did for it. Standard flavour bun, none of your caramel and chocolate abominations that are available these days. We’ve not had the thing for a year, and the toaster is toast. Miffed about it, I found the receipt and emailed the supplier/manufacturer. This generated an email requiring me to supply all the details of the toaster, plus details about myself. Emails went back and forth at regular intervals, and I was asked to test the toaster again, despite my nervousness, to see if it would again knock out the … Continue reading Toasted

Yesterday, a walk quite close to Gloucester and Cheltenham at Witcombe, or Great Witcombe to be exact. With my good friend Robin, we wandered around the reservoirs, then gradually walked up the hills of the Cotswold escarpment behind on a day well worth waiting for. Clear blue skies and warm enough to increase our intake of Vitamin D. My little bird song recognition app going bonkers as the birds were enjoying the sun too. At the top of the hill, we join the Cotswold Way, meeting a couple of pleasant ladies, one of whom asked us, ” What are you … Continue reading Great Witcombe, yes it was.

One of those phrases that call centre people use that generally conjures up an odd image. This one is from my archives. Have a good week. Continue reading Bear with…

This is industrial Gloucester looking over the canal, the photograph taken quite a few years ago now. I’ve converted it to black and white and will be doing a charcoal drawing first to plan it out. The next one is an even older photograph that I have a fancy to paint sometime.I’ll draw this too before the brushes make an appearance. This is in South West France. Continue reading Candidates for painting…

One of a series of drawings before I dip into painting again. I find that doing the drawing sorts of prints the image into the grey matter, parking itself next to thoughts of ‘Where did I put those socks?’. I wonder if Cezanne had similar thoughts; he was reputed to have red socks, I think. Most of the drawings are black and white, but when doing this one, a yellow pastel was hanging around doing nothing. Continue reading Buttercup Field