Now.

Ephrata, Pennsylvania continues to generate a spark of electricity that sets the adrenalin flowing, but the only anagram I can manage for Ephrata is ‘rat heap.’ Hardly a fitting place for the Woman in America, she who oftimes holds me in thrall like car headlights a rabbit. I wonder if she knows that we have an ‘our song.’ If she doesn’t, it isn’t ours, is it?

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My walk tonight wasn’t entirely uneventful. There was a group of loud, uncouth blokes walking up the lane making loud, uncouth noises and disturbing my nocturnal idyll. I don’t know who they were, where they’d come from, or where they were going, but I hope they don’t come back.

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I’ve just had a lettuce and mayo sandwich, which readers of long standing might remember is a particular favourite of mine. There’s something about the cold crispness of the lettuce, the warm softness of the bread, the mellow creaminess of the butter, and the sharp richness of the mayo that makes it a classic snack, in my opinion. Bit like the ideal woman, really.

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The combination of five hours sleep plus nightmares plus lots of driving, lots of walking and a little shopping has left me a bit spaced out. Must get up the wooden hills early. The scotch is working its magic easily tonight.

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I was given a Christmas present today. Now I have two.