Cream Crackered

Had a game of squash with my new mate Terry today. Excellent, despite breaking a racket (NOT in anger, honestly). He also brought along an Australian lady called Belinda, who gave me a right old tonking. Mind you, I was already tired from playing Terry, and I was using a borrowed racket....Anyway, the upshot is (see what I did there?) I'm fairly pooped. I can imagine the scene as I try to escape the gravity well of my bed tomorrow morning, with a back that's about as supple as an angle poise lamp.

Terry's dog, "Jet". very cute.

In other (sligtly belated) news, I now have six made-to-measure shirts and one pair of trousers. Absolutely useless to me but they look smart. (That last word should be given with the full scouse treatment to match what was in my head when I typed it). Spare a thought for poor old Bart, who made a similar order, but after six visits for refits, had to settle for three shirts, since they had made the others too small and had run out of meterial. I was there when he suggested they take them in "a bit", and they did pin them while he was wearing them, but somehow between then and fitting they got two inches smaller across the chest. He looked like he was trying to fit into his younger brother's shirt.

I wrote a short story once, many years ago - in fact it was in the year I got married, 2002. Anyway regardless of its vintage, I was considering putting it on here. Since there are enough of you visiting each day to represent an audience, I thought I'd give you all the choice. Post or not post?  Please let me know your thoughts. The other thing I have to do is find the word document, which might be tricky since seven years represents quite a few clearouts from my hard drive. Certainly it's not on this PC, but I'm hoping (if you vote to post, of course) that wifey will find it on my PC at home.

Currently I'm sat watching Lyn work. Interesting take on the artistic process. To the layman it seems very much like the engineering process - flurries of activity followed by long periods of staring at the monstrous creation as it evolves. Mostly she's out of shot, since the camera faces her desk chair, obviously. However she seems to return to the chair for her periods of cogitation. I can hear her moving around, also the clinking of paint brushes. Really quite exciting, waiting to see what she'll produce. I wonder if it's the same for her when I'm working? Nah, didn't think so.

I ate this. Yumbalicious.

Be good.