itsmeagain

Enya.

Distant.

Up

It was bookmonkey who saw it, not me, Booknutt.

Path

Sounds a real treat!

Notes

🍭 Lollies

Aduki

Bean ..

This reminds me of some outlandish experiences had by my wife and I in a flat in 2009. We lived on the top floor, one of two adjoining flats in the attic space. We had a problem closing our window on moving in, as a white extension lead was hanging through the window, and plugged in, Christ alive knew why, in our neat clean. living room. Not knowing what it was for, I unplugged it, and shut the window. Days later, our neighbour Paul the Irishman, said "Sean pal, oi think you're after pulling out our Skoi TV lead." So I put it back in and was relieved to be told by the landlord that the flat was free of bills whilst extensive renovation work was done. So he paid the bill, thankfully. The great British gas then demanded we pay a 53 pounds unpaid bill from a guy we had not heard of, refusing to believe that we were not he, a previous occupant. The executives at Centrica headquarters had to intervene on my behalf. Then when we did pay our first bill, British gas said it hadn't been received and head office rescued me again.

It was delicious Shirley.

Vegan chickpea curry. Bhaji, pakora, chapatti. All at a local vegetarian cafe.

Raining.

LOL. She was a hard woman and no mistake. One can only speculate. I guess the range of possibilities is narrow. 😂 ☺ 😁

Tripods

Film

Most certainly Madeleine. Once rapport is established, the conversation really flows. It's the feeling of lack of comfort I get from pointless chattered in the gym... That I loathe.

Heroes

The film is excellent. Big John Coffey is dead in real life, great character in the film.

Thanks for this Athena . I have no diagnosis, but I do actually find casual conversations with strangers to be rather tiresome. Not tiring, tiresome, mainly because of the fact that I feel that small talk is pointless. Also I dislike the possibility of low level, casual, prying into my life. No need. If you encountered. me, we would both be ensconced in a book and hoping that no conversation was attempted.

Mothers

House

Waiter.

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