Yellow head


These lines written by Emily Dickinson seem to be about Nigel Farage.

How dreary to be somebody

How public, like a frog

To tell your name the livelong day

To an admiring bog.

Yellow head


Yesterday there was a single daffodil in the garden across the street. Today there's a little crowd.

I'm reading Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn. It's a book in which the author is keen on describing how everything smells. The lead first-person narrator can't go into a room or meet a person without mentioning odour. She relates how an ex-teacher's breath "smelled of eggs." Ugh!