Regular readers will know that I’m a night owl. Last night I
went to bed early at 2.15 because I knew the joiner was coming this morning. Nine o’clock he said. At 8.40 there were ladders
going up to my bedroom window, and I’m being invaded by various sorts of
unwholesome noise as I type this.
It won’t be surprising that my thoughts are consumed by a
review of last night’s main post. Yesterday was intoxicating and I have a
hangover. Now it’s a new day, and in the cold early light to which I’m
unaccustomed I realise that the post could have been better written. Frankly,
I’m nervous. Ever open, I said what wanted to be said and there’s no luring it
back to cancel half a line. But I’m nervous because there’s a rare and special
person far across the sea who has probably read it. I just hope it caused her
no disquiet because she’s been very special to me for some time and remains so.
Maybe more so now than ever. I hope she knows that, for what it’s worth, and
will excuse the hopelessly inadequate reference to her.
That’s all; I need to get off this subject now. Back later.
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