Crumbling shack

I've been admiring these ruins, (particularly when over run with prickly pears and spring flowers) for years and I suspect they might go some time soon. They are by the side of the Soller Palma road, just on the outskirts of the city. Many times I have seen a family arrive later in Spring at what must be their land, with a cart pulled by a donkey and have set to harvesting the grasses as fodder I suppose. They do it by hand with scythes. The sight is so incongruous at the busy roundabout and tinged with sadness as the the city expands gradually North. The new hospital further round the ring road has spawned a magnificent flyover and link roads. There are posters and sprawlings of graffiti demonstrating against another link road here. It's inevitable.

I took the shot from the car as I was driven to work this morning, not risking another flare up. I still felt grotty all day, and it was a kind of relief that a third of my lessons weren't going to happen. It was frustrating, but I got a bit of marking done anyway.

Relieved that dinner was more or less ready, and delighted to find Roxanne had made some sparkles appear in previously gloomy places, I promptly fell asleep on the sofa for a while. Yesterday never seemed to end, so I've paid back some of the exhaustion debt. There's a long way to go. I hope I don't sleep all Easter holiday.

Now, where's the mortar?