What's gone is gone

Following yesterday's Seat 600, you get a French car today, with the ghost of a Mallorquin dancer on her way to perform.

She was followed by three others who got into a more modern car which produced thumping house music as soon as the battery engaged. A bit like a memory I have of a nun on a gin palace on the Shannon, but that's another story.

It was really humid today. I'd got up early and hadn't really noticed until I went to meet Jay for a coffee. We had a giggle at the world around us and I then had to visit my lovely doctor, so I got some reading done whilst waiting and was consumed by the idea that the world was air conditioned and really a bit chilly. Emerging with a fistful of prescriptions for the month ahead from Dr Arenas, along with a huge amount of support, the air was stiffling. Not much to be done then, apart from a bit of 'Zelda' with the boys, cheering on the Tour de France and stringing beans. I got some shots of the cat, peculiarly guarding the beans heaped on the table. Maybe they'll get blogged some day. The boys and I were in stitches doing our versions of 'what cats might say'..... "Get off my beans. I love my beans....." He escaped with one after trying to eat them.

No pool today. I had to get to the pharmacy and the boys needed ice cream. Apparently the Polish are still bouncing around in the pool as well as the Sicilians and some Brazilians. Jay told me there was an interesting photo shoot of the range of skin colours available, from black to white, in a line. I'm glad in a way I wasn't there, and then be left with a quandry...

So, I'm left with this, and I feel a series coming on. Cars that will disappear.

This belongs to the Sandal shop. Most things are hand made and I would love to wear them, but I don't have Mallorquin feet.