I’m beginning to yearn for a desk.
I have been marooned. Not quite on a desert island, but certainly far from civilisation and its Co-op Supermarket.
I have been horizontal mountaineering again. If you’re wondering what that is, pour yourself a small vat of sherry and cut yourself a slice of Madeira cake, then I’ll explain.
I have a new toy. And it has four eyes. I refer, as none of you have guessed, barring that professor of mysteries at the back, to a pair of binoculars (with two lenses at the back and two at the wotsname or front).
This news just in, folks: nothing is simple. I witter in the wake of a day in which I found that not one item I needed would open, work or switch on easily. And that included a can of sparkly water.
As I lay on the floor in the darkness I looked up at the window and could see them, illuminated by a fragment of moon, looking inside with bad intent.
WE share our lives with beasties. In so saying, I’m not referring to a general relationship with other creatures on the planet. No, I’m referring to a far more intimate relationship – with beasties that help themselves to our lives.
To sleep, fat chance to dream. Wilbur – was it Wilbur? – Shakespeare’s famous quote tells its own story: you’ll be lucky if you go to sleep and have a dream.
THE pipes, the pipes are calling. Or rather I am calling the pipes. And what am I calling them, readers? Names, that’s what I am calling them.
We are such creatures of habit. And not just you, madam. Me tae. It’s not necessarily a bad thing.