Sunday morning. The bees already busily at work. A sound of contented humming rises from the lavender beds. Bob is out in the courtyard with an old laundry bag. Sophie is in the kitchen hoping for an incident that involves breakfast being spilt on the floor. Outside in the village the Hungarian stonemasons are about to return to Lake Balaton. They've left an ash tray full of cigarette butts and a small mountain of empty lager cans on the war memorial steps.
For the PONs a day for playing in the irrigation systems water jets lies ahead.
6 comments:
Sounds like the perfect, quiet, wet Sunday.
Bob with a laundry bag? What's happened to furry fox?
Playing in the water jets - don't forget the shampoo!
Sound just perfect, just how Sundays should be!
It's always quiet before the storm - Enjoy and rest up!
A quien Sunday. Just the bees at work. Perfect!
oh those laughing faces!
i see the naughty little voleuse has gotten over her guilt. :)
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