Forgotten pieces

The forgotten pieces of yesterday's Lego, as collected from the rug and rescued into a new life on the book shelf. Where will they find themselves next?

Today I seemed to drink a lot of tea and probably ate too much. I dreamt that the house dated from the time of the French Revolution and indeed it did. The morning was a fuzzy time, it took an hour to wake up and an hour to shower and an hour to fiddle with yet more versions of vehicle number plates. I also ate a fried egg. That's three hours of anybody's time and before long I was in a cafe eating lunch. Now I can't make my mind up as to whether I'm a bowl of lukewarm soup or a butterfly covered in butter. The afternoon burned away like an Embassy Regal so I pottered in the garden before eventually running out of pots and failing to find any ill placed trees that needed removing. As usual I moved the barrel into a better location, soon the torture will stop. I also sprayed things with teak oil from the bargain land of Aldi, that was a quite satisfying activity. The garden has a grammar all of it's own and I can't quite understand it. In the end all I knew was that there was a remarkable amount of dust up inside my nostrils after a lengthy spell of sweeping. I'll not be trying that again.