“He makes a July's day short as December” - William Shakespeare

"Well, you can tell me now. I'm reasonably sober." 


Apparently it's July.
I only bring this up because the only evidence for that statement is what my classic movies calender is "telling" me (July is "The Birds" by the way, I love that film).
It has rained in almost biblical volumes, for what seems like forever, it is hovering on the edge of freezing (but I absolutely refuse to put the central heating on!) and the sky is perpetually grey. In fact grey pretty much sums up everything these days - neither light nor dark, happy nor sad.

Speaking of all things miserable, I was very much looking forward to the new series of "Wallander" last night. When I say "looking forward" I of course mean "anticipating wallowing in Scandinavian melancholy".
At first I was worried that Kurt had ruined everything by finding some degree of happiness. What a relief as the bodies started piling up and the existential angst began to drown proceedings.
Now I can once again fall asleep in a wine induced stupor, and claim I'm simply aping one of our most beloved knights of the realm.

I'm on holiday this week. I've already had the much anticipated blood test - woo hoo!
Now the next highlight is fixing the squeaky floorboards in my dining room. Y
ou may be reading this at some future point, relishing the knowledge that your author drowned/was electrocuted in a drilling through a pipe/cable incident.
Remember me fondly...

"Pa's selling weapons to the Red Army Faction,
I burn myself in public just to get a reaction"