The Red Crane

This is a Red Crane as opposed to a Red Kite, and yes, the sky really was this blue today before the ever waiting clouds grabbed the space.

My blip muse has been noticeably absent today, a day much taken up with housewifely chores.
With the arrival this evening of a VIP to the Dower House, it was all hands on deck to clean and polish, and launder sheets and towels less our visitor thinks the standards are slipping.

Talking of cleaning, isn't it amazing how many pieces of splintered glass a wine glass can produce when it shatters on being dropped.

His Lordship, thinking to be helpful last night, let a glass fall as he was putting it back in the cupboard. I imagine I will be sweeping up infinitesimal slivers of glass for many days to come. I blame Ikea myself.

His Lordship has very generously offered to take our visitor and me out for a meal tonight, so there is no cooking to do at the moment, and while waiting to iron pillowcases, I'm blipping and watching Thomas Voeckler give his all to hold on to the Yellow jersey for another day in the Tour. I fear he will lose it today, but hasn't he done well, a true gritty champion for the vertically challenged.

I would like to think that these superhuman efforts we've seen for nearly 3 weeks on the slopes of the Pyrenees and the Alps are produced by drug free riders: some people have their doubts, but I remain innocently hopeful that they're wrong.