that pic


Here I am, trying another way to upload a picture:
I thought uploading via email would be useful for when I'm in Uganda next week too.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

mind the gap

I'm suffering from an excess of velleity. Velleity is volition at its weakest. It's a mere wish or inclination, without any accompanying effort. My velleity is fed by an overactive imagination... I can see in my mind's eye exactly what my dream garden looks like, for example. So when I am outside, I'm imagining a tree there, a shrub here, a winding path and a bank of flowers. so the lack of all those things and the lack of effort on my part to make them happen don't worry me so much. It certainly makes things easier when you are living with a very large garden during our excessively hot and dry summers. I'd write more... but what can I say? Velleity strikes again.
Read more

A project for 2018

Image
Three years ago I decided to make a doll's house for Taylor. I insisted on going to buy the wood and get it cut the morning that I made the decision, and then, rather typically, it was packed away and no more was done. This Christmas, Greg challenged me to get it finished, which transformed it into the 'Great 2018 Dollhouse Project', and in a second transformation, I decided that Taylor might be too old for it but that I probably am not. One of the great things about creating a world in miniature, is that it makes you look at the things around you with completely different eyes. I am assessing everything that I see to determine its convertibility into furniture and fittings. Greg helped me to cut out the windows yesterday, so now I am planning paint colours, wall and floor finishes and which rooms should be what. I'm planning a laboratory in the attic, and thinking of a shop as part of the ground floor. It is 1:12 scale, so the adult people will be betw...
Read more

the writer formerly known as...

Twenty years after I was born a Brooks, I became a Wilson in one of those happy-ever-after fantasies that didn't quite work out the way I had planned. But Wilson was a nice name, and eminently preferable to Brooks (which in Afrikaans means underpants or knickers and led to horrible teasing at school) and I quite enjoyed it. It was one of those anonymous names that everyone could spell and I liked the fact that it was totally normal at first look, but had a secret history. The great grandfather of the Mr Wilson I married had emigrated from somewhere near Moscow to the US and like so many others with unpronouncable or "difficult" names (I think it was Tobinofsky) he was given another one. One of the legends is that Wilson was chosen from the phone book, another is that he particularly admired a Wilson (couldn't have been Harold). So, for the next 25 years or so, I built my name and reputation as the journalist Lynne Wilson ... until I met and married my new happy-ever-a...
Read more