Doesn’t time fly when you are traipsing round the well like a dehydrated donkey in the desert. Apologies to my fan club leaving you high and dry with not even so much as a “puppy on the blog”.
Life, once more, has me in one of its vice like grips, snapping at my heels, leaving little spare capacity to take the bitch for a walk in her virtual park.
Am now convinced that scratching one’s head is an overrated activity in trying to come up with a solution to a problem. And then there is that ever present chasm between theory and practice. The theory might be perfection, putting it into practice often like trying to retrieve the cheese without the trap coming down on you. The third in this unholy trinity being “if only”, also called daydreaming; it’s the joker in the pack – the one that keeps your view firmly on the horizon.
One of the advantages of being a character in a novel: You only suffer on the page.