nowhere special...

... and a shitload of work, but the sky is the palest of blues; wisps of gossamer cloud drift here and there, doing little else other than accentuate the softness of the evening light; patches of orange dance lazily with silhouetted leaves on the wall opposite my desk. Not for long; it will be dark soon, but it will have been another beautiful day amongst many. Whilst New York sits in a great big puddle of a late Spring and Early Summer, we, the reputed land of mist, fog and rain, are forced to endure two whole months of dry and inspiring weather. Hardships such as these are difficult to bear, but we will go on, painful as that may be. Heh heh - two amicably raised fingers and a dirty grin for you all, my brothers and sisters en Amerique.
Once again, my Phalaenopsis is flowering; it's a Marks & Spencer's mongrel, but it's beautiful, elegant, and carries an inflorescence of no fewer than twelve blooms. And they're all opening at once... I'll be buggered if that's not a record. Coming from me, species puritan, it's hard to admit that I love this plant, but I do. The petals taste good too. Don't ask. I try everything; Gingko biloba tastes like bitter, green apples. Perhaps I shouldn't skip my medication.

For the particular amusement of a certain somebody, I kinda like it, but the lips are all wrong...