Evening

I started doing a photomontage thing - the brewery chimney in the morning sun and the brewery chimney as I walked home in the fading light. And I was going to write, sitting in the morning sun, (yes, sitting when the evening comes). But it looked absolutely rubbish. Unlike today, which was absolutely beautiful. Real spring in the air. So good a pint on the way home was called for.
So they got the French geezer. I see that many were hoping he was a right wing fanatic stoked up by Le Pen and Sarkozy; an optimistic view. All too predictably, just another flawed young man with a minor criminal record who has found a cause to give his life meaning. Tiresome.
But to the good news! I see the Olympic Torch is running past the road-end. Frooking frook, yes indeed; round the corner at Winehouse and the Bank and up over the old railway and past the shops. Fan-tas-tic.