The other day, Betty and the boy person friend went to Mission Bay, which is a swish beachy affair with a Movenpick parlour. There were no Movenpick icecreams eaten on this mish, however.
Pretty, huh? They walked along the beach for a bit, and then bowed to the inevitable and went for a burger.
Betty’s was a remarkably good crumbed pumpkin and spinach pattie with salad. Nom nom nom.
While they ate, Betty wondered about the blue tarpaulin lashed to the side of the cliff. Some elderly lady, no doubt, who lives in one of the swish houses on the top of the cliff probably lowers herself onto it every morning to do her sketches.
I want to be like her when I grow up.