Well, my sojourn among the chickens is over and, of course, I am missing the little blighters.
Into the second week of my sojourn among the chickens. I’ve grown fond of the beasts, even if their behaviour is less than impeccable.
I’ve been having a high old time – on my roof. It’s not the first time I’ve experienced a strange feeling of pleasure at being above it all.
I fear that ghosts are going the way of UFOs. The fact that we film everything that moves should have meant a plethora of sightings ripe for posting on yon YouTube.
I have seen something sinister, and it has given me the collywobbles. It was a Saturday so, as you might imagine, we were on the roof of a stately home.
I must say I was right intrigued to read about Dundee University offering compostable cutlery and crockery to the lieges in its hallowed halls.
Recently, I returned from the suburban hill in a state of shock, ladies and gentlemen.
You will find this hard to believe, but I keep a file of coincidences that crop up in my life.
My head has gone pear-shaped. As many of you may remember – and I struggle a bit myself sometimes; now, why did I come onto this page again? Oh yes – I have been cutting my own hair.
Though this column tried to avoid controversy, there’s no getting round it: we need to talk about footwear.