A Slavic Mystery.

I’m becoming ever more intrigued by these regular visits I’m apparently getting from Slovenia and Croatia. Neither Feedjit nor my flag counter are picking them up. Who are you Slovenia and Croatia? Slavic phantoms? Those children of the night who make such music?

I’m talking too much. I have sixty miles to drive tomorrow, and the forecast is for snow. The prospect of cheap toothpaste and a vege pasty from Gregg’s bakery will be the spur.

Goodnight.