Happy at last December 6, 2006Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
No, not me, though I am, it goes without saying, ecstatically happy at all times. Why Erik Ramgren, of course, whom misery compelled to set out from Sweden to the Caribbean in an old baked bean tin and whom I’ve mentioned twice before, not that any of you noticed, you heartless things, you. It’s only taken him fifteen years to get there, and his journey has been strewn with disasters and a very early and protracted stop in Norfolk, but what a story. Go Ezza! Go Ezza! I knew it could only end in success, though I was hoping he’d settle in Norfolk and find himself a nice local lass. But he’s out till all hours in Trinidad, or so he claims, and I suppose we can’t say he’s made the wrong choice as far as climate is concerned.
On an utterly separate and quite unrelated note, the Russian has discovered my new blog, which, for however many naughty weeks it’s been, I’ve pretended didn’t exist. “What, you just deleted the blog?” “Yes (tee hee).” “But you wrote so much.” “Yes, but you were quite right, darling. It’s a footling and time-wasting thing to do. You were right all along (tee hee).” Cover blown. ABER, blogging’s going to get a little honeymoon period and, in a conciliatory gesture, he has discovered this piece of software, which, allegedly, we blogging wastrels all need. I shan’t touch it with a bargepole, of course, but perhaps you clever types might let me know if it’s a great life-improver.