Toulouse the integrity of one’s hamstring Rubbish Day

I woke up feeling a bit dancey this morning despite the fact that the rubbish collectors didn’t arrive on Wednesday and the fact that I can now actually smell the bins from a good 20 metres away. A week’s worth of cat litter in a bin is a terrifying thing! (Yes, we still have both the cat and allergies)

In honour of my grandma who nearly danced for the Folie Bergeres, I went a little (lot) Moulin Rouge. A car actually pulled over AND turned off the Oscar Pistorius news to investigate the going on!

Of course I have neither the grace of a gazelle nor its hamstrings. I am in fits of giggles and am quite beyond being able to edit the many photos my long-suffering husband took (I’m sure to prolong the agony of my public can-can performance) so there are rather a lot of shots this morning.

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My “audience” and, yes, there was some performance anxiety. Thank heavens for the absinthe (green food colouring in water)

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I am rather fond of my hastily cobbled together fascinator.

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Let the dancing begin

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More Impi, more toyi toyi than can can 🙂 And then the Karate Kid move. Keeeeya!

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Empress of Entropy Rubbish Day

We have a cat. A ginger cat from parts unknown has come to live with us. He is terribly sweet but alas the dogs don’t think so. Ginger Cassidy has now been living with us for almost two weeks and every single day of the almost fourteen has been a lesson in how difficult it is to suppress basic instinct. Each time Mr Cassidy is sighted by the dogs, he runs. Each time he runs the dogs give chase. It’s a greyhound race all day every day. With consequences. So far I am the only one to suffer these – blood, regret and tetanus shots.

In order to keep everybody safe, we have evolved an elaborate system of closing and opening doors. This was stressful and annoying enough on its own but then on Friday my darling daughter tipped the scales by bringing home the class hamsters for the holidays. More closed doors. More greyhound racing. More basic instinct. We are all prey here.

Thankfully I have the distraction of rubbish day and my online war game (I’m still playing. O woe is me) in which, this week, I earned the title ‘Empress’. So despite the fact that I am a ball of nerves, blood and allergies, I get to put on a shiny hat and look regal (not really) on the bins.

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Happy Wednesday good people of wordpress!
L.