Me I Am. Am I?

Some days it seems like nothing gets resolved: Several starts but no finishes, flitting between one task and another and misplacing energy where there's no potential. A battle with indecision and ultimately defeat by inertia. And I can't work out what to wear.

Take the past day or so. I've been tinkering with how the blog looks hoping that I might be able to smarten it (me) up a little.  At various times - in between sock matching and other kinds of work avoidance - I've removed the profile photo, replaced it with one of me and changed it again only to end up back where I started. 

So at around 9.30pm (GMT) - if you'd have been passing through - you might have caught a glimpse of me. But when I published that particular draft of me I didn't look like the me I thought I was - am - and reverted to the little shoe picture which is, in fact, far more sweet and colourful than my own real self.

Something similar happened with the blogger header - currently wearing Futura medium, lower case in dark red, likely to change later. Earlier today it was fancily dressed up with a photo I took last Friday of the South Bank at night - all lights and mood with artfully arranged text on top. Then I discovered that another blog features almost exactly the same view on its header and I thought I should take mine down.

And now I'm back where I began it's been all change and no change. I'll have to start again tomorrow with a better end in mind.

Wednesday Evening

I'd hoped for more words than pictures this week but it's half term.

Here are some photos of today's walk. Apparently it's the same walk we always go on - the never different one, the always the same one - which caused a bit of a hoo ha on exiting the compound.

Towards Tower Bridge and The City

East towards Canary Wharf

100 Words: Pens, Paper, Pocket

I'm not certain how I ended up with three pens in that pocket but the discovery of such treasure makes me feel rich.

Elsewhere on my person I've got receipts and bits and tat jostling around in a just in case jumble. 

And adding shape to my formless bag slash sack is an empty yet weighty last year's diary re-commissioned for this year's great ideas. 

They could come any minute. They might all arrive at once. But I'm ready for them - equipped. I've got the instruments, the implements, the tools, the supplies.

I count the pens again - one, two, three. 

With thanks to Baglady and Mr. London Street for the original 100 Words idea.

Keepsake

I found this tiny picture in a shoe box with some other bits and bobs.

Maude was my great grandma and I'm guessing she was in her late teens when this portrait was painted. The inscription on the reverse reads:

To Harry 

With Love From Maude.

 1898

Harry & Maude were married in 1906. 

Nothing Happening Here

Dear Reader,

I'll be direct -

I'm stuck.

See those letters below? I'd like to be able to arrange them into words, sentences and paragraphs - perhaps with an engaging thread running through.

But it's not happening.

If you feel at all moved to respond to this dilemma with an idea as to how I might get unstuck - I'd be most grateful.

Yours,

Me

Carp Ark, London SE1

 

Piccadilly Circus, London W1