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twenty one more sleeps to go…
Well whatever the detractors might think (and unlike myself after eight mince pies from Betty’s brought by a kind visitor the other day), it’s all undoubtedly starting to take shape, starting with the weather (distinctly chilly at time of writing), the television (on which I have watched many, many Bonds over the last couple of weeks) and not least the…
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paradise found…
A slight exaggeration maybe, but after a relaxing week at home with TV, comfort food, fishes and the all-encompassing pleasantness that comes from attempting nothing more challenging than laundry for a few days (only fair after muchas liveliness on the islands) it’s fair to say that a heavy sigh of resignation was emitted when the time came this morning to…
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and like buses…
…another quick rant message, since I am currently in that accursed limbo which defines the time period encompassing that which lies betwixt the hotel check out time (and make no mistake, there was actually a knock on the door one minute after the hour as I was putting on my coat) and the time one has to set off for…