Three Questions and Three Notes.

Should I explain to those few hardy souls who read this blog why I’ve not been very forthcoming lately? Should I explain to the priestess why I’ve become distant towards her over the course of this year, being no more than polite in response to her infrequent emails? Should I berate myself for being so insufferably egocentric?

Answers:

1. I think it as near certain as makes no difference that nobody out there would have any use for an explanation, so no.

2. I think it unlikely that the priestess is unduly concerned about my distance. Unlike me, she counts among her attributes the inclination to be a party animal, a fact which must greatly dilute any value my presence in her life might convey. So no.

3. My egocentricity is not of the pathological variety exhibited by a narcissist, but rather owes its genesis to a complex set of circumstances and reactions. So no again.

*  *  *

On my twilight walk this evening I encountered two small gypsy-style caravans parked on the verge by the side of the road, and saw a sturdy piebald nag grazing in the un-gated field opposite. I exchanged a few polite words with the young man who appeared to be the custodian of the vehicles. The young woman engaged in some activity inside of one of them remained silent. And then I noticed a Jack Russell terrier tethered to the nearby hedge, rolling and twisting and squirming to such an alarming degree that I feared it might soon tie itself into a reef knot at least, if not something more complex. I had the impression that the little canine was eager to make my acquaintance. Naturally, I acquiesced.

After several minutes of pattings and scratchings and belly rubs I thanked the young man for the dog fix. ‘Do you have dogs of your own?’ he enquired. ‘No,’ I replied, ‘I use other people’s. It’s cheaper.’

*  *  *

Having seen the headline concerning the plague of bed bugs currently creeping out the residents of Paris, I’ve begun to feel nervous about the prospect of going to bed. Paris is several hundred miles south of here, but the wind in these parts is currently southerly. And when I studied a map of north-west Europe I discovered that my house is substantially closer to Paris than Paris is to Marseille. Geography can be very strange sometimes, can’t it?

*  *  *

I saw a woman in a shop recently who dropped her debit card as she was about to pay for her purchases. As she picked it up she turned to the woman behind her and said ‘If I had a brain I’d be dangerous.’ I’d never heard that expression before, but I liked it. I assume it must be a Derbyshire expression. My origins are in the next county to the left.