Coo Boys and Cake

Such a drab day in my neck of our wordly woods. I thought to have a go at photos of buildings so their appearance is straight up as in not inclined to their downfall. So long since I've given a thought to whether a building even looks like a building in a photo or a bit of a coo.

I went to see my GP who I was doubtful I like and came out content I went and with a prescription for the first time ever for an anti-depressant. My nerves are a little shot I found a way to say without understating the case.

My logical mind tells me no wonder. My disturbed life-cells agitate a stream of rebuke I do not cut the mustard. It will sort because I will sort. A relative for one who recently fired for days a stream of salvos dragging in references that made my straight hair curl intending to destroy every fibre of my existence and meaning does not have to inhabit my world. Adapting to that exclusion would grieve the hardiest. I can do it.

Not without a bevvy of professionals and friends I re-considered. The doc wrote some serious reportage to see me get where I need to be. I am grateful for the release. I have enough to deal with. I cannot face standing in the kitchen to ever finish doing my dishes (as an example), but they can wait. They have more patience with themselves than I have with them.

To the photo. Blippers I have known previously may remember I was vastly entertained when the bank before it wasn't a bank had all its upstairs windows taken out and the building sat open like a busted open piggy bank. The bank that was on the ground floor has since gone. Cowboys and Angels, a coffee shop I don't frequent, has filled its space with all the accoutrements of a refreshment room and florist and geegaws and more and cake. Never let it be said nature does not find a way to fill a space. It's all over the pavement as well as inside. Pity the Council does not lift its game and expect the proprietor to move the second hand vaguely antique-y things off the pavement so I do not trip over them given I'm of feeble mind. ;)

I say equal rights to falling over for the feeble-minded now I've thought on't. I get it. I just don't walk past there any more.

Look at that fabulous building at the other end of that block. It's an emporium style structure that cuts the mustard. It even has a vast and classic bare wooden floor with enough timber to build a Noah's sort of Ark in case there's a flood, except it wouldn't float, I don't  think so anyway.

Coo boys and Angels. Well, I never. I would have called it Peeps and Pancake and opened a pancake parlour with 20 different flavours of icecream including soy, big fat slices of soggy carob cake and turned one corner into a Performance Poetry venue. Could have sold some fairies and some vinyl. Have some old pot plants.