Out with Hector this morning, we walked past a bush where it sounded like somebody was mowing grass but it turned out to be a swarm of hornets.
That's the end of the story. We didn't hang around.
Meanwhile, it's been an odd week. GCSE exams are upon 'us', so much so that I am more concerned about Rhiannon doing hers than I was about doing my own. Which seems to be the way it filters down the line because she doesn't seem too concerned at all. Her only worries are about whether the prom dress that's been ordered is a) going to arrive on time and b) fit.
Maybe that's how things should be when you're 16. All I was concerned about back then was getting to see Kiss but I have no such concerns anymore. Tickets are in the bag and it's two weeks today... and she is coming with me. I hope it doesn't spoil the rest of her concert going life but more than that, I hope she doesn't think it sucks. That would be the worst thing ever.
Yesterday surprised me as to how much I was touched by Chris Cornell. I thought I was untouchable by such things but apparently not. I couldn't get it out of my head for most of the day until the only way to get it out of my system was to write - the end result being a song called The Mourning After. Work continues on that front. Lyrics finished, chords being played with across today and who knows what I might do when it's finished.
I might post it here for public consumption, which sounds far preferable to performing it live via Skype to a select audience in LA as a friend who lives there suggested last night - though there is something rather tempting about such a thing.
File under pending.