Autumn and complaints and a dinner

Autumn is a cunning thing, whatever the situation it never fails in being impressive. All this rain and all this sun, and the leaves, the leaves, the broken grass. And when I close my eyes this could almost be 2004.
I like the scarves, the cups of tea, the soup and the chocolate, oh I like that.

I’m staying with my parents this week instead of going to school. My arms hurt too much to draw anyway, and my feet make it painful to move around. Sitting here doing nothing makes my feet hurt less, but of course I couldn’t stay away from writing, and now my arms are almost crackling when I move them. But I get to read a lot, and there is doctor tomorrow.

Carrots and onions