Another Dropout.

Life persists in its habit of pushing me into a dark and dispiriting place. I offer no list of reasons, just a plea that you excuse my latest bout of non-communication. My brain is sheltering under a tree and refusing to come out.

And yet my mind was full of the Lady B today for some reason. (Actually, I know the reason, but if I tried to explain it I’m sure it would be universally misunderstood so I won’t bother.) Suffice it to say that I still miss her after all these years and hope she’s OK. (And I’m curious to know whether she’s added a little boy to her personal tribe. I like triangles.)

Right now I’m off to read another ‘dark tale’ by Shirley Jackson, and then it will be time to hit the scotch bottle. It’s one of the very few vices I still permit myself since I began the process of putting the demon cholesterol behind me. I see little point in haunting the dark corners of coffee shops now that I can’t have cream in my coffee, so that's one favourite vice consigned to the oubliette.