Spring Sprung Sprong

 

The balcony has just exploded … with flowers. Tonight the sweet, enchanting, sensual fragrance of Nicotiana wafts lightly on the gentle warm breeze, bewitching the interiors of this Dream Palace, and all that. It is bloody marvelous. I’ve ordered more seeds, nurturing hope, for us all. 

 

Third Week From The Sun

 

3rd Week of lockdown ginger. It has rained for most of it, so it would have been pretty quiet out there anyway.

 

Here I am on the roof in the rain waving at the other end … and of this, some sunny day.

 

Idle Hands Do The Devil’s Work

 Hello my loves, what a difference a few weeks make eh? Well now that we are all caught up in this fog together we’d best make ourselves as comfortable as we possibly can. I can’t say I have anything that could console you at this time or even possibly divert, my main wish is not to make matters worse.

My Epitaph

“He Tried Not To Make Matters Worse”

I wish to thank you dear reader for following my ramblings into the void and making it a less lonely voyage. 

Now onwards and inwards until we can go outwards, where and what is Wards? 

 So, I have been dancing with El Diablo in the digital domain. Here are a few doctored iPhone pictures that I took this week to reflect Andalucían idle doom.

 

Beer Melting Time

 

 

The Quiet Life

 

 

The Quieter Life

 
 
 


The Art Life

So there we have it. Chins up, bottoms up, don’t let the bugger get you down.

 

A sobering thought

 

 

Photographs by Matteo Delred

https://matteodelred.com

 

I’ve been an alcoholic for 37 years and I am pleased to announce that as of today I haven’t touched a drop for nearly 20 minutes. 

 
The_clap.jpg

Chinchin.jpg


I Feel Terrible I Look Terrible I’m Fifty Fucking Five

Yesterday was one of my Birthdays

It was early but the temperature was already climbing into the mid 30's so I switched on the garden misting thingy as the church bells rang out 8 AM.

 

Misty Buff

The bells reminded me of my dad's funeral who died at 55 on my 31st birthday. Note to self: I am still alive, don't get smug.

Bish Bash Bosh

I decided to make mayonnaise with garlic, alioli, sod Hellmanns. The picture is not the finished article, just the garlic you understand.

 

Time for A Latch Lifter

 

POV of feet and filthy kitchen floor, nice

I am wearing a Jellaba made from an old sheet. I feel and look like a psychedelic hammock: Pillock.

The Alioli is to go with this

for breakfast

I am not pictured, or am I?

A bit weird all this, as it was Fruits De Mer with Chablis and Alioli, which may originate from Provence, so it's bloody French. Still it's all in the EU init? Actually it felt oddly exotic. I might try Fish & Chips soon.

 

One is now, as I write this the next day, horribly hungover. After Brexifast I sauntered on to a swimming pool bar, and subsequently a series of drinking houses of questionable quality, finally arriving back at breakfast this very morning to another Latch Lifter.

 

I am now taking this for Gout

 

 

Found My Tipple

In Brexitlandia there are a lot of novelty named wines like “Old Git.” They are all by and large rubbish drinks but are popular amongst people who like whoopie Cushions.

 

Anyhow this local Spanish wine is not supposed to be amusing or descriptive but it might as well be both. I drank it and felt funnier after the second bottle.

It's name is Terrible

The fellow in the background resembles yours truly and that Tesco “Value” Scotch Whisky was bought in Soho for about 5 Quid when Tesco where denying claims that they lured customers in with cheap booze. Again, a terrible drink and I had to fight through a hysterical flash mob of Soho Street Drinkers to get my sweaty trembling palms on it.

 

La Pasión Española

I am overwhelmed by passion

fruit

The flowers look as though they were created for the cover of a 1950's Sci-Fi comic

 

I bought the seeds from a funny looking geezer with tentacle eyes down the market the year before last. He said the plant “bleedin' well loves the climate down here on earth”

I hope to be making Passion Fruit Bellini's later with a view to the stars

 

Night Mayor!

One of the many good things so far this year has been not having to vote for any of the bastards in the UK. However I did vote this Sunday at the local Spanish elections and we are now Socialist, that's all well and good but I refuse to ever wear open-toe sandals.

The newly elected mayor came jauntily up to me after his inauguration and with a gleeful grin boasted:
“I dressed up as your wife at the Carnaval.”
I believe this to be good omen.

 

 

Cruzing Camp Style is a Sin

No April Fool, this is the local lager in Andalusia, only it isn't, This pile of crapanakins is Alcohol Free. What in the name of God's Butt Plug is the point of it and why is it in my Spanish Castle? It is given away free every time I try to buy a case of the proper stuff. I am inundated with this blight on the bar top. Luckily the local restaurant said they'd swap any of these cans for the drunk version anytime, now that is a far better deal: Free Alcohol Beer.