I am glad I took pictures yesterday afternoon, when I felt like crap. Today, that feeling continues, compounded by a large dollop of self-pity and frustration. I was going to do a still-life, but still-life is played. So, let's see a happy face on this day of bone-weary illness, shall we?
Like the man said to the horse, why the long face?
The apple of my eye and all that . . .
Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to curl up in the fetal position, cry, and feel better in a day or so or die.
Lisa explores what happens when the BBC and Agatha Christie meet the produce department. Plus le chat, of course.