On holes

There’s a hole in my Alfa, dear Liza, a hole.

Two holes if you want to be more accurate.

A black one if you want to be facetious.

***

There’s a hole in my bathroom, dear Liza, a hole.

There is now anyway. Luckily.

Until this evening it was so blocked up that there wasn’t much hole left at all.

It was quite gross and horrendously smelly.

I cleaned and unblocked it though, so it’s all good, and the vinegar worked its magic on the smell. I can hopefully bath in peace now, without flooding the whole room.

***

There are holes in my walls, dear Liza, there’s holes.

I finally borrowed a hammer and started putting pictures up today. It’s amazing how much more lived in a place looks when there are pictures.

***

Today was a strange day.