This week for Michi: Madeline Fogg
Her surname really is Fogg.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Better to see ... better to run (go/work etc.)
(Because I am a slave to convention) I spend a lot of time with my laptop atop my lap - and all manner of other things (books, phone, coffee-cup) within reach. I love the fact (it is also annoying) that any vacant areas of lap greater than the size of a fifty cent coin, will be considered an opening, an invitation - by one or both of my cats. Oh what a very merry party, say they, tiptoeing across the lot to settle themselves down in the centre of it all, rendering me incapable of operating my elbows.
Best in competition ... best for you...
Speaking of the subtlety of cats - an edge or an ear of the top Marchal poster was visible at The Design files recently. I had to look it up... turns out to be an ad for spark plugs...
Thanks: the first was found via Galerie Montmartre and the second at a fanatic's flickr stream (where there are a few others).
Sunday, May 15, 2011
Aesop in the Myer windows... I don't know how long they've been in, and I don't know how long they'll stay. There are more than four; I actually think they are a bit hit and miss. I do love the one with the chair - which is so filmic (or staged) that I think it must be a reference to something particular -- which makes me think that I may be the one who is missing something.
I forgot to read all of the quotes because I got stuck on liking this one:
Everywhere I go I find that a poet has been there before me. – Sigmund Freud
It has been a week for quotes.
For some reasonable reason, part of my Friday morning was spent laughing (and crying) over A. A. Milne and Pooh bear. These aren't the funniest lines (or the sweetest) but they're the most appropriate, today:
"I don't see much sense in that," said Rabbit.
"No," said Pooh humbly, "there isn't. But there was going to be when I began it. It's just that something happened to it along the way.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
This is a true reflection of my domestic state.
My maidenhair fern, which I kept very moderately happy for one year (never thriving), has recently taken a bad turn. I have since tried plunging her into deep cool water for long periods. At Mum's suggestion, I have just cut her back and will give her some warm tea.
Where her recovery is concerned, I am interested in all advice, sympathetic stories and wives' tales. Please write.