Whatever that means
Don’t know what the hell this is supposed to be what with the wummin and mystical symbols. And Winston! What’s that? Winston Smith, Churchill, the cigarettes? Who knows but it’s appeared overnight at the end of the road at the office (just past the last of those big arched windows on the left).
But more importantly, what the hell am I doing in the office on a Friday? Catching up. Not much but best done in the office, especially on a sunny day when the temptations would be too strong.
I’d taken the Polaroid in case I got the chance but lunchtime was worked through and just as I was getting in the car there was the deja text letting me know that Ewan was on his way to A&E having jumped off a swing and fallen onto his arm. Fortunately he’s not done any damage. The clown.
So, home to sit in front of the TV with a Wells Banana Bread beer. Eh? Yeah, it was there and had to be tried. It’s weird. Not undrinkably weird (that would take a lot) but definitely weird.