Since it’s about a month since I posted anything to this
blog, and since it appears that a few people still check in, I thought it no
more than courteous to explain that I’m not dead, nor comatose, nor lacking things
to say, nor reclining on a silken couch being distracted by a comely wench
(probably of Egyptian extraction) feeding me morsels of sweet fruit with her delicate
and sweetly scented fingers. It’s just that the black dog has insomnia and
refuses to leave my side. His persistent attention over the past few weeks has
been – and continues to be – most galling.
In short, I don’t yet consider myself to be an ex-blogger.
* * *
I saw the first swallow of the season today, in Mill Lane close to the Lady B’s erstwhile residence. I find it a little ironic that thoughts of the Lady B have been almost as persistent as the attentions of the black dog recently. She ran the London Marathon last Sunday and I’m very proud of her (not just because of the marathon, but the rest would be complicated.)
I hope to be back before the curtain falls.
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