Overheard At A Festival.

They sat Cross-legged on a black bin bag outside a wigwam tent. One, who was blonde, twisted the others hair, the recipient, a redhead, with her neck arched back and eyes closed, swayed gently and softly moaned. A ray of sun caught them in its early morning glow, last nights downpour glistened like glass beads all around them. I watched from a seat under our Motor home’s awning. They talked about blokes and bands, but still kept the tone smooth, hushed and gentle; perfect for the time of day. I surmised, they had been childhood friends by the way they were together.

Musicians warmed up on the distant stage, ‘one two one two click, click, click.’ Across the airwaves. Waking late-night revellers from their stupor bought on by excess.

The smell of bacon wafted across the camp. A clanking of pans, loud yawning and noisy stretches broke the quiet. It wasn’t long until groups of pyjama clad girlie’s in Wellington boots linked arms giggling as they picked their way to the bank of smelly toilets; still full from yesterday. Towel draped couples made their way to showers and dogs cocked legs against tent poles and wheels.

I felt the mood alter slightly between the two, my people watching mode is sensitive to the slightest change. Now beaded and braided the red-head snatched and shook the plaits, that made the beads tap, she giggled and thanked her friend. The blonde girl plucked two cereal bars from the pocket of a coat and offered it up for breakfast. On taking the bar she swigged water and wiped the bottle with her palm. As she passed it across she said in a clear voice. “I sell my poo on the dark web.” Blondie paused, (one of those audible teeth sucking pauses) tilted her head to stare in the others face. Taken aback, I craned my neck, strained so as not to miss a thing. “Did you hear me?” she said flicking out with her hand. “I sell my poo on the dark web.” I wanted to tell you ages ago … “It pays for medicinal cannabis and henna … just once in a while.” Blondie nodded as she listened, then jerked, her hands froze mid-roll, tobacco fluttered across her Bedouin birthing pants, she swiped angrily with her palm at the debris. Standing up, jangled her ankle bracelets as she kicked her bare feet. “For fuck sake Mia, is that what’s in the cool-box? You’re sick.” Both walked in the direction of the music. I watched until flamboyant hand gestures were all that was left to see.

The Husband burped from the bedroom a morning greeting. Somehow my watching was more disturbed by that … than the notes I penned in my notebook. ‘Overheard at a festival.’ reading it back, I wonder if someone nearby could be writing about me; earwiging, and The Husband’s morning greeting …

The blue-haired lady is how I imagine myself being, all modern, slim, elegant and carefree (dreaming). All photos are by way of Pixabay and from WordPress’s free photo library.

Was it only me who knew or knows nothing of `The dark web?’ What is the most random thing you have overheard? Answers in the comments, please. I can’t wait to read. 😆😅

I popped this on Esme’s senior salon press HERE to share your post or read others

I’ve Eaten My Post.

As I am away until the twelfth of July and  have scheduled a few posts so as not to dissapoint my visitors. I am planning an occasional coffee shop visit to beg wifi so do keep coming,  😇 😘

Today my healthy breakfast was even healthier than usual. In my strawberry pot little pops of goodness grew and  I chose this bright morning to pick them.

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My breakfast mixed in a bowl waited in the kitchen. It waited for the topping that would make it look like muesli;  but in a party frock. Ths addition would bring beauty to the mix and raise the anti oxidants to levels supreme.

 In Anticipation of the breakfast I put out my favourite mug; the one with a picture of a fat strawberry slapped on its side. A coloured spoon that set the scene  was placed just so. The coffee pot pre – warmed and ready. My setting almost complete,  waited for me to photograph it,  A picture to finish off my blog, to proudly show my produce in its best light. A picture taken with a shiny new camera.on my phone.  I’m not a photographer or even a good snapshot taker, but this is brand spanking new and I was excited. After all what could go wrong.

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From the deck outside the kitchen window, I plucked three juicy plump strawberries. They felt good in my hand, warmed by the morning sun. Their scent tickled my nostrils, my mouth filled with saliva and my tastebuds jumped to attention. By the time I walked into the kitchen they had disappeared. The only traces remaining were stains at  the corners  of my mouth. .I had eaten them, relished each one, I rubbed the achenes with my tongue,  they felt like goose pimples. Slowly I slurped, devoured and thoroughly enjoyed all three. That is why this  is incomplete, unfinished and left lacking. Because, I’ve eaten my post!

Post script…

I felt guilty so made a replica of said breakfast… minus the Yoghurt as It has gone too.. I snapped this second one just as my mouth began to water.

 To assuage my guilt I will leave you my breakfast recipe and maybe  the strawberries will get in to your bowl before being devoured.. .

One hand full of organic jumbo oats
Two desert spoons of chopped and sliced almonds, hazelnuts and walnuts.
Two teaspoons of already mixed, sunflower, linseed and pumpkin seeds.
Fresh fruit the sumptuous kind ( red or purple )
A dollap of thick plain yoghurt
Two desertspoons of fresh juice.
Two teaspoons of Agave nectar.
Mix, allow to sit for ten minutes
Then if you managed to get this far without doing so… eat.

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Have you ever left something unfinished?
Have you scuppered your own blog?
Or eaten your post?
Leave me a comment let me know what you think of my photographic skills, and my recipe. I’m away for a bit but will answer as soon as I can. Meanwhile enjoy the sun.