Sunday Notes.

You know, the more I read and hear the words of those who control our world, the more I’m becoming convinced that wisdom is the exclusive preserve of children and mad people. Maybe that’s why Shakespeare had Lady Macduff’s son spouting wise words in Macbeth, a possibility which seemed to escape my English teacher judging by her pejorative comments regarding Lady Macduff’s son.

It surprises me to note how many people don’t talk to me any more. I suppose I could put it down to my looking like a fictional French bell ringer, but most of the people who used to talk to me don’t know what I look like (the one who does may be forgiven) so it must have something to do with my personality. Maybe it’s too excessively vibrant.

I think I saw a ghost walking up the lane past my house with two women this evening, but I couldn’t be sure because my view of them was too brief. Whatever it was, I think it was wearing a hat. Comments like this get you noticed.