Good Yawning Everyone!
And it appears that, despite my best efforts to slow down time by spinning in a counter clockwise direction*, that morning has rudely arrived and with it another day of business to attend to; at least today it involves being off to Ivy-Covered-Land and the Halls of Learning I know so well . . .
I can hear beyond my curtains the hissing of traffic which tends to suggest that today is a wet one which, viewed positively, can have some interesting implications in an olfactory sense that can, in turn, conjure up more images and thoughts to find form verbally, yet in a written format, for you good people . . . it's an interesting philosophical conundrum; when I write what am I doing? I am, of course writing, but I'm actually primarily thinking . . . the thought occurs and I give it form; I don't verbalise it as such because, for me at least, this process is a silent one, but I bring it into an existence independent of my own thought processes and endow it with properties so that it moves from my mind into yours via this electronic medium . . . it is astounding how stimuli tickle our sensory organs and somehow produce thoughts from seemingly nowhere; the story of how the aroma of a Madeleine biscuit caused a certain Monsieur P to write seven volumes of recollections is too well known to go into here . . . thankfully for you, dear guests, I shall be less prolific, if only because of the limitations of that ole devil called Time . . .
I have just drawn my curtains - or as dear old Spike would have it " Inside the room the curtains were drawn - but the furniture was real " - and confirmed that, in fact, it is a very wet day; in an effort to maintain positivity I shan't dwell on some of the more unpleasant practicalities that this discovery entails ~ I am thinking of wet, windy platforms late into the night time hours ~ but, hey ho! It may well have stopped raining by then . . . is this positivity or self-deception? Hmm . . .umbrella and gumboots me thinks ~ or galoshes at the very least!
Ah well, those few feeble words have taken the best part of an hour to write and so I must away to the woods or down to the sea again or, more likely given my location, the bathroom to make myself beautiful and face the day . . . I may see you lovelies after supper if you're very good; stay out of trouble please and come back safely later . . .
'til next time
Be Seeing You !
*The theory that, as you spin counterclockwise, with each turn you rob the planet of angular momentum and slow its spin by the smallest amount, thus lengthening the night and pushing back the arrival of dawn.