Advance Notice.

Just a little heads up. Since poor old Mr Grimshaw is sailing along like the proverbial lead balloon (but with thanks to dear Della, who not only thought it mildly worth reading but actually bothered to say so! What a snotty little monstink I am tonight. ‘Monstink’ was my mother’s favourite word for me when I was being objectionable as a kid. Good word, eh – monstink? I got called it a lot,) I’ve decided to post the next one earlier. It’s going to be Glenda.

Apologies to those couple or so people who’ve already read it, but it is a favourite story – and it’s a later one, as promised. I have to format it yet and I’m likely to be busy tomorrow and Thursday, but it should be up by the weekend.

Another reason for posting it early is that I intend to put another one up on 26th in recognition of the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party celebration. That one’s a bit weird.

Do forgive my late night attempt at petulance. Blame William Grant and Sons of Dufftown.

And hello to Sweden, my latest flag. I knew a Swedish man once, called Stephan Marling. He was short, dark haired and spoke terribly good English. Doesn’t quite fit the picture, does it? Nice bloke, though, and the girls loved him. I didn’t. I’m sure he was responsible for Sheona McCormack giving me the push. I got over it and forgave him.

This is getting silly. Go away.