There can be only very few of us who have not woken at least once in adulthood with the thought fully formed in our brains

"Oh! I wonder what a peach ice cream would look like?
"
Some of you, the more rebellious, and you know who you are, may even have dared to dream a BLUEBERRY ice cream.

I would guess that very few if any have taken it to the ( Read more... )

Bright, scintillating, effulgent. All these words and more have no bearing on the morning when Seren and I left Casa Hunter.

Grey, dull, damp, soggy...these words, however, are the very quintessence of the greeting we received as we stepped out into the rain.

Rain is something Seren had not really encountered in her morning perambulations, being ( Read more... )

What I do:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/the_hunter/

http://truckinghelltheseries.blogspot.co.uk/2009/08/tragedy-250809.html

( Read more... )

One of the things I'm finding fascinating is correlating other people's tales of being Aspie, reports of symptoms and my own experiences over 53 years and going *Oh! THAT's why...*

Eating exactly the same meal (Chicken Ping) cooked exactly the same way without change for 10 years...

using what is probably vastly too much salt...

having to leave ( Read more... )

The day was grey again, but with a cold and boding wind. Seren, who has had a sheltered life, was at first unsure of the fact that nothing was rushing past her with a whooshing sound, but she soon came to embrace and even play in it, running up and

"Training"

down and taking playful leaps in

"TRAINING ( Read more... )

The dancers swirled in the pre-morning grey, swaying and twirling pirouettes at the whim of the breeze, their mist-white gowns flirting with gravity, not quite obeying, not quite ignoring, whilst the full ensemble of the Dawn Chorus laid down new beats to the backing track of the motorway traffic

"Dance with us, Hunter. Dance with us!" The flirted ( Read more... )

Mornings are like a newly opened writing pad. Or if you are too young to know what that is, a freshly opened Word document. I like living in the future but it plays havoc with metaphor and simile...anyway...the day is new, ready for you to decide how you are going to write your life upon it's white sheets. Or arrange the pixels on the LED of the ( Read more... )

The vista this morning when Seren and I left the flat was rather more easily described than yesterday. Whereas the kaleidoscope sky 24 hours ago threatened the paucity of my lexicon today's vista could be summed up in one word.

Grey.

Grey skies filtered a grey light onto a grey landscape. The panorama was almost monochrome when we set out, Seren ( Read more... )

I opened the door on a spectacular sunrise. Reds and golds washed across the sky, wiping the grey from the heavens.

Seren and I set off with the idea of doing The Little Walk firmly in our minds...or as firmly as Seren's mind could grip...she is, if I'm honest, a little bit grasshopper-brained and can't concentrate on one thing for more than a few ( Read more... )

Okay...this dog is defective. We were playing *fetch* with rope chew toys, I throwing it, her fetching it back, beating me about the head and upper torso with it for a bit and then handing it back.

All apparently as it should be.

However, at one point in a fit of enthusiasm she leapt onto the bed at some speed, slid sideways in a clear example ( Read more... )