common thread

 Downstairs first thing, that is the call of nature, the call of need because of living in simple accommodation. Be welcomed downstairs by the cat, the only one awake at half past seven this Sunday morning. Breakfast is made quickly, finding space between the items left lying around by the sons and the wife's activities of the night before. There are the skeletal remains of a mackerel in the sink. This is fishy...

The cat is attentive untill she realises that there is food left over for her in her plate. She eats, and then wanders off somewhere.

Breakfast is brought upstairs again. It being Sunday, there is no mail to look at, spend the time looking at Facebook entries. The things are currently not worth looking at, just silly superficial things between dog rescue and aeroplanes from the 1930s. Given another seven years and they will be one hundred years old.

Breakfast eaten, start to write this whilst consuming the last dregs from the coffee. It will be necessary to finish the tax things today.

And to start working through the pictures taken during the last three years. It is time to look for a common thread.