A quiet night in at Patteran Pastures. A few bits of verse are in preparation, but with only 3 hours sleep last night next to a thrashing Reuben, I have spent the day oscillating between febrile activity (when did you last scrub out your stainless steel kitchen sink?) & narcoleptic slumber. In fact, after 5 minutes in a chair, even in mid-conversation, I would tumble into sudden, dreamless slumber, somewhat in the manner of Homer Simpson’s father. Daughter Zoë & friend Terry came up from Farnham & Portsmouth respectively & had to make do with my partial presence, one moment engaged in animated discourse, the next deep inside the Land of Nod.
#
I found a couple of deeply bizarre links on Deb’s consistently excellent blog. Try these: Exorcist Bunnies & Rock Paper Saddam
10:34:37 PM 
|
|
