Not Yet Fried
Thank you for all the well-wishers who recently expressed concern about my black eye. It was of course merely make up applied for last Wednesday’s Prince Charles bash, which by now you’ve possibly seen on the TV – not that that obviously theatrical device stopped some poor confused journalist from assuming I had been in a real fight and attempting to trade some snaps for good old British pounds. I expect the fact that sterling is about to be worth about as much as Iceland is focusing journalistic minds upon cash, as well it might, for how else will they afford their new quills, ink made from the blood of the poor, and the odd pint of whiskey?
The other matter of some concern to kind people has been the fate of our cottage, around which I recently showed this rather nice Frog from Seesmic, and I’m glad to say that so far (fingers crossed) we’ve escaped being fried to a cinder by the awful rampaging fires.
You can follow the great and very difficult work of the local fire brigade here.
