The last few days I’ve had a stonking headache and terrible pains in my shoulder. I may as well have been walking around with someone driving nails into my muscles and bashing the side of my head with a hammer. Thankfully it has subsided as the bank holiday weekend approaches. Although, I’m not sure camping is the best remedy for already aching shoulders.
I’m off to a wedding tomorrow and have been trying to draw some caricatures of the happy couple. There’s a real art in capturing someone’s personality and features with a simple few strokes. It is not my forte and because things haven’t been going well, I decided to take a break to draw something easier – like dogs!
I love people watching on the bus, you hear all sorts. My other half came home chuckling the other day and told me about this conversation between a mother and her 5yr old(ish) child. What a bizarre thing for a small child to think of. Apparently it had the whole bus in hysterics. I wonder if it is worth spending a week or so travelling around the city, drawing interesting conversations…
I have a very sweet tooth and can put on weight just by looking at a cake. There’s a voice in my head that is constantly chanting ‘EAT. EAT. EAT. EAT.’ More often than not, it’s chanting ‘EAT CAKE. EAT CAKE. EAT CAKE!’. I try hard not to succumb to the urge to satisfy my cravings because afterwards there’s a taunting voice chanting ‘FATTY, FATTY, FATTY’. Sometimes I wish I could just have a great wedge of deliciously moist cake and not feel guilty!
I have a habit of talking… A LOT! My other half who is a woman of few words has described my chatter as white noise. Yet she has developed a skill where, when pressed, she can relay the first and last part of any conversation, thus creating the illusion that she is listening intently.
Am I the only person that wakes in the night and worries that their other half may have died in their sleep?
This is the last in my series of holiday cartoons. There is no diary entry for this cartoon but it comes at the end of yesterday’s entry. After a full day driving in the rain, we decided to dine in the comfort of a local pub at Lerryn, the Ship Inn. It had Wifi so we spent several hours making up for lost time by updating Facebook, Twitter and checking emails. Until this point we hadn’t really missed our electronic connection with the big, wide world but on a cold, drizzly evening, we couldn’t resist the temptation.
Excerpt from holiday diary 1st July:
“Parked at the National Trust Car Park at Frogmore (157516) and made our way down to the coast at Lantivet Bay. The sun was out and the sea was a beautiful turquoise, you could almost imagine you were in the Mediterranean. On arrival at Polruan, we hopped on a water taxi to Fowey to join the throngs of German tourists and to tuck into a delicious smoked Mackerel and Beetroot Bagel from the delightful Lifebuoy Cafe. We tried to take our usual “lunch with a view” photo (we have a series of these taken on various walks around the country) when a seagull swooped down from nowhere to grab my bagel.”
Excerpt from holiday diary 2nd July:
“Windy and drizzling today – what a contrast to yesterday. After a few false starts we end up on the way to the North Coast. First stop, Rock. Well, the Rock pier car park for a loo stop. Rock is a rather posh village on the other side of the estuary to Padstow (you can cross from Rock to Padstow on a foot ferry). The village is dotted with high end clothing stores, restaurants, bistros and cafes…
…I was unimpressed by the drive to Polzeath – we didn’t really have a destination in mind. The Bee Centre? Vineyards? Cider Farm? We finally decide on Lanhydrock where we’ve been before, but in the dark on an impromptu ghost hunt with mum and dad.”
Excerpt from holiday diary 30th June:
“A leisurely breakfast on the first grey day we’ve had this holiday. We walked from the campsite and our cosy camping pod at Ruthern Valley to the Camel Trail at Grogley Halt. Onwards to Wadebridge, dodging cyclists and taking in the Cornish countryside. At Wadebridge, we hired bicycles and pedalled the remaining 5.5 miles of the trail to Padstow. A bit of a mooch around before being overwhelmed by the crowds jostling through the narrow streets, eating pasties, licking ice creams, nipping in and out of galleries and tat shops and generally taking in the atmosphere. Rick Stein has really popularised this little seaside town much to the locals’ chagrin.”
Big Hair Metamorphosis 