I’ve been very busy clawing myself out of one of my periodic black holes. I’ve been living the life of a single father, since my wife has embarked upon one of her periodic respites, [from me,] - and it hasn’t been too bad. The washing machine has broken down and, despite Roberts best efforts, today I made my first visit to a coin laundry in about twenty years. It wasn’t too bad. I read a bit of CUSP, a very technical sci-fi novel, and reread a bit of The Poet by Michael Connelly while I waited. I had a nap. I picked up Polly. We went to the supermarket, via the bottle shop, where I picked up a bottle of cleanskin Merlot, about two thirds of which I’ve drunken at the time of writing. At the supermarket we bought gladwrap, chocolate custard, cat tuna, a bueno bar and considered buying nappies for the cats
The point of all this is that at last things are looking better.
