Navy Pics and Unaccountable Crawlies.

I’m fed up with reading and writing about Brexit, so I thought I’d post a couple of pictures by way of evidence that I really was a naval officer cadet once. (There must be somebody out there who thinks I make all this stuff up.)

This is the ship in which I crossed the wide Atlantic, doing all sorts of interesting things like eating breakfast next to a man vomiting into a bucket, and being given a day’s stoppage of leave for forgetting to lower the ensign at sunset. It was really exciting.

  

And this is a picture of me dolled up in my very smart naval officer cadet’s uniform, taken at home shortly before joining ship and doing exciting things.

 

Do excuse the poor quality of the pictures. My mother took them. And in fairness to the senior service, I should point out that taking up with one Miss Jeannie Brown in St John’s, Newfoundland for three days really was exciting. She had a car to drive me around in, and when I commented on the beauty of her eyes she said ‘I wear contact lenses.’

*  *  *

I thought of recounting the mystery of the black spider which climbed down into my empty white bathtub and unaccountably disappeared, and then unaccountably climbed back out again. But the whole story is too complicated.

One interesting thought I did have tonight, however, was ‘wouldn’t A Crane Fly in the Kitchen make a splendid title for an avant garde drama?’ If only I could write.