THE FLY THAT WASHED HER HIND LEGS

A most changeable day weatherwise.
There is a new storm brewing.
I walked in the garden, noticing the things I will have to do in due time, but felt not bad about it, And that is different from some weeks ago.
Slowly we can adjust to the new situation of staying longer here.
In the afternoon Piet Hein and I bowed above the new tax return that had come after we had send an evidently (not in our opinion of course) wrong one. Some grind in our brains, but hola, we will survive that.

My haiku:

Every day I wash
Two perhaps three times even
My dirty hind legs

And the proverb:

You wash out ink with ink.

1616 Withals,  563.

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