Marty

Am I correct in assuming it's the outside of the house that is being painted?

So now I'm having visions of your brother's friends showing you the normally hidden piercings and tattoos they have in, and on, various parts of their bodies...

Hi, Albert. How's the painting coming along?

We're currently struggling to get above about 16°C (61°F). Whilst I wouldn't be comfortable with the temperatures you guys seem to be experiencing, I'd be happy if we could maybe get into the low 20's(C) or around 70(F).

G'day, young Albert

Now there's a thought... But if I were to get any of them printed and mounted, it definitely wouldn't be all of them, as some are not all that great. And I'd probably also go back and re-edit any that I did choose to print. I'm not sure about them being actual exhibition quality, though. But a few of them could finish up adorning the walls of my new, old house (assuming I ever finish the decorating).

Some interesting, and obviously personal reflections there, Gary. And I'm really glad you wrote "but I'm okay" in the Warning at the top of the page.

So it's Friday, again. The wet weather this week has made taking photographs a wee bit difficult, but here's my 16/52 of my weekly black and white photographs...

Glad you made it home safely, bro! Put your feet up. You deserve it!

As I had to head out for the for some voluntary work I am involved with, I just had beans on toast for dinner this evening. Finally back home. Close to midnight now. Won't be long before I head to bed.

Another delayed reply on my part but.... Hey there, young Albert!

There's absolutely no accounting for individual tastes. I remember when I was a child one of my favourite snacks was a dollop of tomato ketchup spread on a slice of bread. Nothing else, no butter or anything. It was scrumptious!

As I'm still sweeping and vacuuming up bits of wallpaper (I'm stripping the hallway, stairs and landing), I haven't even thought about dinner yet. I'd ring the chipper and order fish and chips, except for the fact that I had that two nights ago. So, when I've finished, I'll defrost one of my portions of homemade bolognese sauce, boil some spaghetti, and have spag bol. Actually, it's past 9:00pm here, so I'll stick the frozen sauce in the microwave on defrost setting before I get back to the tidying up.

Mein Gott! You don't sound too sure about that! Hope there's no serious problems in Page Paradise.

How's things, Page?

Hi, young Albert.

Not meaning to sound as though I am criticising @pvtguy for his curiosity, but all I did when I saw his question was to do a Google search using the following text: what's the difference between a solicitor and a barrister uk I stuck the "uk" on the end to try to avoid getting answers that may only have been true in other jurisdictions.

Good day, everyone.

Not sure just how clear these might be to you, but have a look at the following: https://www.slatergordon.co.uk/media-centre/blog/2016/09/difference-between-a-lawyer-a-solicitor-and-a-barrister-explained/ https://www.springhouselaw.com/knowledge/whats-the-difference-between-a-solicitor-a-barrister-and-a-lawyer/

That reminded me of the following bedtime story I used to read to the son of two of my friends when he was about 3 or 4 years old... I actually found the book of it in a pile of other books that were in a number of black bin bags in the outhouse of a house in the Lake District in England that one of my sisters and her husband were renting whilst their own house was being renovated. They had been told to take any of the books they wanted, as the bin bags were going to be donated to charity. That particular edition of the Millions of Cats book had been printed in 1939. It quickly became a story that I would read it to him as one of his bedtime stories any evening I went round for dinner (or supper, as it was called at the time, because after it he was expected to get into his pajamas). Whenever we got to the 'hundreds of cats, thousands of cats, millions and billions and trillions of cats!' parts he would join in all excitedly. Of course, he had no idea at the time what a thousand meant, let alone million or billion or trillion. Indeed, he couldn't even count up to a hundred.... It became his go-to bedtime story until he was about six years old, when he discovered the Harry Potter books. I think only the third or fourth Harry book had been written at the time, but he became that engrossed by them that he was annoyed at the fact that we couldn't read them fast enough for him, and so it actually accelerated his learning to read for himself. As his mother said one time, when I commented on his sudden improvement in reading: "We can thank J.K. Rowling for that." I actually still have a photograph on my mantelpiece, that his dad took one evening, of him in his pajamas sitting on my knee, and me sitting in an armchair with that book open as I was reading it to him. He's twenty-one years old now. Next time I'm round I must ask him if he still remembers Millions of Cats being his favourite bedtime story...

Hi, young Albert.

Hi, Gary! Hope all's well.

You might very well think that, Gary, but I couldn't possibly comment...

Wow! Clo turning down desserts!