Sticky Willy

A six hour work group defining measurable outcomes for tertiary mental health services isn't particularly good for one's non existent soul. Neither was the limp buffet of cheese sandwiches and corned beef pie, with which I compensated for the lack of quality with volume. Consequently the afternoon was a blur of soporific nonsense.

So, to blow the gunk from between the synapses I decided to take Meg & McLeod for a walk in the park. We discovered that autumn is now upon us. The wind was up and there was a distinct nip in the air. We could smell the damp rotting of vegetation.

Perhaps this sensitivity to the seasons is felt only by those in the extremes of the temperate zones. I have some pity for those for who's weather is invariably hot.

You see, I like these changes as they keep me in touch with the passage of time and the ebb and flow of life...



McLeod with "Sticky Willies" in his hair. This is an old Scottish term for the rough burrs of plants that cling to animals' coats to distribute themselves. I don't know which model of seed these are unfortunately. They took some combing out. Mind, I don't advise a Google image search for Sticky Willies without safe search turned on. Definitely NSFW!