Let's it here for the Johnsons

I'll end my Johnsonfest with a cheer to Jennifer on her birthday recently. With Olivier giving a welcome cuddle.

And here's a poem from yesteryear to maybe amuse or interest:

Blue-faced boy

Standing with his hands laid
deep within the water of a stone covered
feeder; the boy appears still.

But there are small holes on the other
side, where wings beat incessantly
trying hard to enter and drink.

The figurine upholds its delicate
brushwork and gilded gold, laying definite
lines and aberrations.

His face is blue and the water
has gone into each finger that dances
among the fallen feathers.

Look me in the eye!

The lady here on the left has stars & stripes contact lenses, really weird. You don't know whether to look her in the eye or recognise the flag and salute.Whatever, as my grandson would say, she's a nice lady and I'll salute to that anytime.

Fings ain't whot they used to be!

I travelled all the way to California to meet another Johnson: Roy Johnson at The Di Rosa Collection of Contemporary Art. He was delightful and I soon learnt that Johnsons are as common as Smiths here in the UK. So I told him my line of Johnsons comes from a 350 year history of Suffolk people. It's well worth a trip to Di Rosa to see good art, a wacky house and, most of all, Roy. He'll take you on a trip on his elongated buggy round the collection that includes a car hanging from a tree and another car with a rhino's head on its bonnet.