Cloud Licker

The One With Mrs Buell.

Leap forward an hour. Why not make it six hours, and I'll share my pancakes with you.

Sunday. Use my thigh as your pillow. I'll play with your hair until you fall asleep.

On the bright side, at least my insomnia keeps the spiders out of my mouth.

A thousand times a day is how many times I wonder what you're doing and if you're happy.

When I laugh the way I just laughed, I like to imagine you heard me.

Sun-kissed.

We met a lovely couple from Arizona out on our walk. They were on their honeymoon at the hotel and couldn't believe the stunning weather. We chatted a while, then they told the boy he looked like River Phoenix. He really does! How have I never noticed that before?

They'd let you. They love nose scratches.

Branches against a china blue sky.

Branches on blue. A truly gorgeous day here in Bonnie Scotland.

The boy added 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door' by Bob Dylan to his smoking playlist.
"Why do you like that song?" I asked him.
He contemplated this as he puffed on his ciggie.
Eventually -
"It makes me feel depressed, but in a good way," he said.

Blue sky, some wispy clouds, bare trees. One white wisp is shooting upwards vertically through the middle of the sky.

Clouds be a rocket ship to Mars today.

Two hungry sheep wait at a gate for food.

"Is that a banana in your pocket, or are you just glad to see us?"

Sky be for you today.

Do you know what year this is? I can feel the breeze wafting in from the roof and hear the echo of the pigeons flapping above. Wow.

David Bowie released his ‘Young Americans’ album 51 years ago today, on 7th March 1975.

Ever since my mum died, I have frequent, vivid flashbacks and dreams of things long forgotten. Some good, some not so much. Is this normal?

A dream, a memory. 1976, our rich neighbour pulls up outside in a brand new Ford Escort Mark II. He brags about it.
Later, when he's gone, my sister and I decide to help him out by polishing the entire car with two halves of a cut potato. He skelps us until our little legs are scarlet.

Can't. Tweakin' and twistin'.

Saturday. Kiss me and watch how my flower blooms.

I like you because, I don't know, everything just makes more sense with you there. Goodnight.

1989. My friend, Suze, in her first year at Edinburgh art college, used leather acrylics to paint a detailed portrait of Jim Morrison across the back of my biker jacker. It was a work of art and I fucking loved it.
I gave her a bottle of 'Poison' by Dior and 20 John Player Specials as a thank you.

He had a mini cooper. But I wanted to surprise him. I got to about mile 4, the point of no return, and thought, what the fuck have I done? He saw the blood, went "ew" and went back to watching the TV.

Yip. I was crazy about him. Or maybe just crazy. I still have the scars.

I was always so proud of what she did for "her bears". I kept all the little pictures and fridge magnets and letters when we cleared her house x

This would make my Mum so happy. She worked tirelessly to support this cause and we raised over £700 at her funeral to donate xx