NewOld

A pair of vintage garden secateurs, a birthday present from my children who have declared me officially 'vintage." I don't mind at all, at least they're not calling me a fossil yet. They know I love beautiful old things, things with a story behind them. This one's dead sharp, the way all blades ought to be.

It's been a funny old day. Felt like I was wading through treacle. Couldn't find anything inspiring to blip. Then I saw my new old secateurs sitting on a metallic bubble envelope, and that was it.

I was listening to Gil Scott-Heron's "Pieces of a Man" again this afternoon. Heard this song for the first time when I was 13. It still breaks my heart today.