I was going to do stuff today, other than visiting Aunty Duck and going to the pool and doing chores, but to be honest. I’m stuffed. Four hours sleep isn’t enough, really. I can cope on it… but I need to go to bed soon I got some things to do tomorrow, though! 
So have a flower. I’m off to snooze. <3 I love you all! Yes, even you the stranger lurking over the corner. 
I should have some more photos up tomorrow of the ornaments I’ve been working on, a lot of paper lanterns, some origami pine trees that the kittens love to search and destroy.
For now, though. I leave you with a photo I took back in April, I believe. From a train. It’s not really a polaroid, I took it with my digital camera, but I like it. And it shows you how dry it gets here.
On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, we will remember them.
Lest We forget.
FOR THE FALLEN
Laurence Binyon
With proud thanksgiving, a mother for her children
England mourns for her dead across the sea,
Flesh of her flesh they were, spirit of her spirit,
Fallen in the cause of the free.
Solemn the drums thrill: Death august and royal
Sings sorrow up into immortal spheres,
There is music in the midst of desolation
And glory that shines upon our tears.
They went with songs to the battle, they were young,
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow,
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.
They mingle not with their laughing comrades again,
They sit no more at familiar tables of home,
They have no lot in our labour of the daytime,
They sleep beyond England’s foam.
But where our desires and hopes profound,
Felt as a well-spring that is hidden from sight,
To the innermost heart of their own land they are known
As the stars are known to the night.
As the stars shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain,
As the stars that are stary in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.
or 2.5 centimetres for us metric folks!
I present to you my first lot of inchies! They’re a motley sort of crew, not a set really… just a bunch I happened to make around the same time. The ones with googly eyes are what I like to call “Itsy Inchie Monsters”. Scary they may not be, but I bet they could charm the socks off of you. 
the star and butterflies may be going to my penpal when I get to her letter… the tree was just for the hell of it.
Want some more close ups? Well, here goes!(sorry about the quality, been having issues). (more…)
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