Good, Clean Murder*

Pull my Card For The Day from my new Hermetic Tarot which was a gift from my Aunty. I love my new deck with the Golden Dawn names and esoteric symbols, and the original card names.

Katie came round who was at Mind but is now the community well-being person for our synagogue 🕍. It’s so good to see her: we really get on well. She is going to visit every two weeks which is great.

Mum brings me back to the flat. She cleans the kitchen and bathrooms and I hang up my winter dresses in the spare room and throw out some more clothes.

Have lunch, meditate and sleep. Talk to Leon when I wake up and am now waiting for Gemma to visit for the first time in a couple of years – where does the time go.

Had better post this and get ready.

Happy Friday everyone!

*2013. By Traci Tyne Hilton. Jane cleans houses to make ends meet but then there’s a series of murders. Book One in the Plain Jane Cozy Christian series.

Selling Hitler*

Wake up at seven o’clock and photograph Fluffball.

Do my Tarot For Growth August post.

Sell a Tarot Career Reading for ten pounds 💷 to a very anxious young lady who wants to know if she will acquire an NHS 👩‍⚕️ Administrator job.

Have breakfast with parents and brother. Make him an iced coffee ☕️.

Do Barre 🩰 over Zoom. Chat to my teacher 👩‍🏫 and chums.

Have lunch 🥗 with parents and brother. Talk to MadFatRunner in the garden 🌳 🌸 🌺.

Meditate and sleep.

Make brother another iced 🧊 ☕️. Eat watermelon 🍉. Clean 🧼 windowsill.

I’m writing this in the garden ✍️. Selling Hitler arrives from Amazon. It’s a paperback so I can read it whilst waiting for my whole body MRI next Wednesday.

Can hear sparrows, blue tits and great tits. Mum is doing the crossword in the hall where it’s cool. An aeroplane ✈️ flies over the garden.

Feel calm, well rested, relaxed 😎 and happy. It is twenty eight degrees and sunny 🌞.

Happy Saturday everyone!

*1986. True crime biography by Robert Harris.

The Corpse In The Cactus*


Am spending the day with Mr Fluffypants.  Have been here since 8am.  Would never ever jump out of bed at 6.30am for actual paid work, but just the thought of cuddling this person is enough to get me up.  And Uber helps, of course.  Am turning into quite the devotee of the sharing economy: Uber, Borrow My Doggy…

 It’s sunny out there and the sky is blue, but we’re holed up in his sitting room on the sofa, watching Bloodline.  We’re on episode 11 and now am hoping that his owners are home a bit late so can finish the series.

4.08pm.  Don’t know where the day has gone.  Mr Fluffypants dozes on the sofa:


5.21pm.  Back at the flat.  Suzie is coming over, which is great.  Looking around the kitchen, observe that need to:

1.  Wash up utensils in sink.

2.  Wipe kitchen surfaces and table.  Again.  Am attempting to keep-on-top-of-cleanliness-in-flat, ever since Mum got shouty about this.

3.  Put away pans etc that are filling draining board at present.  Their presence means that there’s nowhere for those in the sink to sit if they ever get cleaned.

3.  Rustle up supper.  Have purchased some mushroom pasta parcels so just need a sauce and a salad.

4.  Find brush from dustpan-and-brush to sweep up nyger seeds that are all over floor.  Important thing is that goldfinches have food, of course, but opening the new packet has Made A Mess.

On the plus side: one of the Christmas cacti is in bloom.  Look:

Right.  Have to get going with these things.

Happy Monday everyone!
*2015.  By Lonni Lees.  A Maggie Reardon mystery, set in Tucson, Arizona.

A Murderous Ball Of Fluff*

Walking back from the gym,these fluffy people catch my eye.  Crossing the road, I approach their owner.

“Wow!  Keeshonds!” I say.

“Yes, that’s right,” he says, looking at me, surprised.  “No one knows what they are, usually.”  He has an Irish accent, looks about sixty.

“I have a friend who’s a Keeshond,” I say.  “What are their names?”

“This is Galen, the girl, and the boy’s Wolfie,” he says.

“Hello Wolfie,” I say, bending down as the boy approaches me and rests his head on my leg.  Stroking his soft head, I smile.  

Galen flops down in the middle of the pavement:


“Please may I take a photo?” I say. “I just love  Keeshonds and…”

“Of course,” the owner says.  “Say their names and they’ll look up at you.”

“Wolfie, Galen,” I say.  They look up.

Back at the flat, the washing machine is running.  It rumbles.  Have washed up the soup pan and wiped the kitchen surfaces.  Flat is clean.  

Attached photo is my outfit at Spin this morning.

Happy Sunday everyone!
*2009. By Ken Lansdowne.  Book Two in the Bent Mystery series.