Pending

Spring is gathering itself to burst forth with a vengeance. Small birds are flitting around the tree tops, provocatively but unyielding, as is the custom.

I'd like to switch the central heating pump off soon because particularly at night, it sounds like we have the two-fingered monkey on loan from the municipal crematorium playing the organ non-stop. The fridge on the other hand is playing a medley of walk on by, appropriate because the gin has run out, and the band of the Royal Marines, for no good reason whatsoever.

I wish you all a very pleasant evening.