It’s just that it isn’t a celebrity blog or a food blog or a technology blog. There’s no theme attached to it. It isn’t even a journal, although it wanders into that territory sometimes. It’s just a rant about this, an observation of that, a muse on something else. Why would anybody bother to read the faceless and mostly inconsequential ramblings of a little nonentity living in a little house slap bang in the middle of the little England countryside? And this isn't a case of false modesty; it's just how it is.
And what I’m really curious about is whether any of these people who do me the honour of reading what I’ve taken the trouble to write gets anything like an accurate picture of who I am. Some of my posts are serious, some of them mischievous, some of them ironic, and some of them just plain kidding. Does anybody get it, I wonder? Does anybody get me? Who are you Fontana, California? You’ve been visiting anonymously the longest. And if I might quote one of my favourite Sinéad Lohan songs, Who Do You Think I Am? But thank you anyway.