Won't Get Fooled Again

About five past midnight there was a knock on the bedroom door. “Mum, you know those tickets - I just bought two of them for a tenner on Gumtree!”

At 8.05 BST all three of us had been online attempting to apply for (almost) free tickets to the Radio One Big Weekend in Norwich. It’s not every day the national pop radio station holds a free festival in your home city. However the attempts had ended in failure. The ticket agents were presumably swamped with applications; none of us was able to get through to them and after an hour, it was sold out.
Of course J and HL were really disappointed as they had been looking forward to it.

“Wow, that’s fantastic Jess, well done!”
“April Fool!”

I had a variety of thoughts about what I was going to put in my journal today. I took a few pictures of this and that during the day: a tree reflected in a windswept puddle and a birthday card my Dad made for me many years ago. My Dad is usually in my mind on the first of April as he was an April Fool by birth. 
But in the end, the image I liked most was this one. While I was working in the garden I found this paste brush lying in one of the flower beds, and put it aside on the door step. I like the way in which use and the elements have marked them and I think it would have appealed to him too. He had an eye for that kind of stuff.


This tune was written by Scott Joplin who died on April Fools Day 1917; the day my Dad was born.