The accidental finding

By woodpeckers

Live music?

GG came round in the morning. We resumed the hideous password task. She hadn't done anything during the week to help clear up the muddle. Progress was a bit faster than last week because I had my laptop instead of hers, but tech is difficult for her, so she farms tasks out to other people and then they all do different things, and she doesn't understand why of it. I expect I'll be the same in twenty years' time, but perhaps none of us will be alive by then. There's a happy thought!

We walked down to town, noticing the budding cherry blossom and magnolia along the way. Had lunch at the Silver Rooms cafe (GG paid: my reward for the password horrors). The guy with the guitar, Shaun, was playing Neil Young and Jackson Browne covers. I know him of old and wanted to support him, but we left after forty five minutes because GG was getting fidgety and I found myself googling English-Spanish bilingual tv series during Shaun's chat between the songs. (I've just finished watching Acapulco on Apple TV+, I loved it! It's set in 1984, and features a young, ambitious Mexican man working at a upmarket resort called Las Colinas. It's both wholesome and humourous at the same time. I believe my errant father may have lived in Acapulco at some point during the 1980s).

Then we did some shopping around town. I bought bird food, chocolate and discount snacks. GG bought foot  softening gloves (!), discount snacks, and a body warmer for her brother. She dragged me into the new department store and we tried on perfumes. I didn't even browse the electronic gadgets. What an oversight!

On the way home we bumped into a friend, AK, and chatted, though it was bitterly cold in the street. Went home and attempted to watch a virtual tour of Positano, but GG and CleanSteve kept chatting, so I took Indie out for her daily exposure to the great outdoors. She is frightened of car sounds, but I did manage to get her to go IN through the cat flap today. She is not quite brave enough to go out on her own yet, only sticks her head out of the cat flap, then retreats if there's any sound. She doesn't yet know that a little multi coloured Munchkin cat lives part-time in a shed at the bottom of our garden. It's not our cat, we don't think it's feral, we call him(?) Cabby. He's been hanging around for years.

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