I’m suffering from blogger’s guilt.
If I don’t post tomorrow, my site will look forlorn, naked and neglected. The fonts will wilt, a layer of dust will settle on my header image and the disappointment of my regular visitors as they click on, then off again in disgust, will be almost tangible.
Sadly, as I’ll be leaving the parental home tomorrow morning and not arriving in Paris until late afternoon, writing will be nigh on impossible. Which means that, were I a conscientious soul, I would rustle up a little post for you now (Sunday evening) and then press the magic button which makes things publish in the future, with a startlingly convincing timestamp, say 9.04 am.
But it’s 00.05 and I’m just too weary and low (PMT if you must know) to deliver the goods. My apologies. Normal service will resume on Tuesday. You’re all on holiday today anyways, so you should have something better to do than read blogs all day, right?
news in brief
Highlights of Easter weekend: the look on Tadpole’s face when she first caught sight of herself in the mirror wearing pink, fluffy Easter bunny ears (courtesy of great grandma), and the perfect way she pronounced selected Yorkshire phrases (e.g. “ee by gum”) after a short but effective coaching session with grandad.