A Rolling Stone ...

....Gathers no moss.

But gathering moss is what I feel I've been doing for the past few weeks.
A friend said only yesterday -
"You're going to have to get out there and get back on the horse"
To which I replied
"I don't mind patting a horse or two but I'm not ready to ride one again just yet"

As you loyal blippers will know, Cupid throws his arrows at me willy-nilly with no thought of the consequences and once again a series of events has evolved that sounds more like fiction than fiction itself.

It started in the dying days of last year when I was invited by a man friend to a party and due to early evening commitments, I arranged to meet him there.

He had already been enjoying himself for some time when I got there... if you get my drift, and while he was happy enough to greet me and pour me a drink he then seemed to forget his manners and went back to talking to his friends, leaving me on my own by the buffet, not knowing another soul.

There was a large selection of cheese - I like cheese. I started on something French a real hummer - delicious.

As I stepped backwards from the buffet, pongy cheese in hand, I accidentally bumped into someone.
"Ooops! Sorry"
He introduced himself.
"Hello, pleased to meet you, Paul, I'm Amanda"
"You should meet my friend, he's one of the nicest people I know."

"Oh really?" and I thought what a strange thing to say, looking across to a guy in a scruffy top and jeans....