I am desperate here. I am looking through my photos for inspiration but, nothing really occurs. Join me in my exploration.
Mr. Waffle and I went to Howth for a walk at the weekend. Mr. Waffle objects to the industrial chimneys in the distance (Dublin’s incinerator and the Poolbeg towers which have something of a cult following locally and really divide opinion), but I find them kind of useful for getting my bearings. Feel free to weigh in on this thrilling topic.
What a nice photo he took of me but, why didn’t he tell me to tuck in my shirt. I suppose like my mother when I was a teenager, he thought, “Is that the fashion?” This was taken before I tripped and broke my fall by sticking my hand into a gorse bush. I looked a lot less pleased with myself then.
What is the relationship between Dublin football club Bohemians and Berlin? Bohs are definitely poor but I’m not sure about sexy.
When I was in Cork last week, my sister gave me a box of old curling photos which she found in the attic. Anyone for an over-exposed photo of my father in Stonehenge in a simpler time from a mass tourism perspective?
How about myself and my brother? Funnily enough, I made exactly the same face when I collected him from Dublin airport at 1 in the morning the other day. I knew from the moment he was born that he would be trouble and I was not wrong.
It’s funny, the picture is black and white but I remember vividly the red of that dress. No effort of memory is required for the rug which remained in use in my parents’ house until my father died. It was was in quite good nick too. They really built stuff to last then, didn’t they?
Maybe tomorrow something will happen. Hang in there.
