I look at the waving man across the street several times a day. I try to get up from my desk and walk at least once an hour. Sitting for ten hours a day tends to make my legs swell up - guess I'm getting old. Walking seems to help so I try not to sit too long without getting up. This poor guy is loosing his arms, at least I can feel sorry for him out in the hot sun all day.
And behind him is grafitti row.
It's still hard to see, but the building fronts are all covered too.
Thought I'd do some short entries more often, seems like I missed the past few weeks, so I'll try just a pic or two every other day.
One of my favorite blogs is Little Red Boat In today's post she discusses a trip that didn't go over very well.
My favorite line from this story discusses the small room she ended up with - "It was like one of those things, like a cleaners cupboard, but, because it was in a "four-star hotel" and supposed to be a "bedroom", it was a cleaners cupboard in which a big fat suicide-chintz-fairy had exploded and no-one had got around to scraping the aftermath off the walls yet.". I'm not sure that I'd like to see a big fat suicide-chintz-fairy, or the results of her explosion, but I can picture it.
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