Something Happened

I woke up this morning a whole year older. Fancy that? Apparently I did it all by myself.

It turns out a few people knew this would happen and have conspired to help me survive the day. I am currently opening cards of condolence, most of which are dog themed. So far, this has been my favourite:

It's all very inconvenient. A beer fest has been organised in Earl's Court which I shall have to attend. And before that a lunch at The Bull & Last that needs be eaten. And there was me thinking I had the day to nurse Willow (who has been a bit in the wars) and regret the last drink of yesternight whilst thinking of suitable apologies for not blogging sooner.

So here's the rub. You commit yourself to blogging, get expectations up and then disappoint them. Birthdays and blogging therefore have something in common. They both have the potential for public humiliation.

Dear reader, don't be alarmed. This is all in jest. A great big glorious fib. It's a beautiful day. It is going to be boiling. Willow is on the mend, and I've had a long holiday in Pays Basques, Rioja and Ribera del Duero, which goes someway to explaining the silence. I shall most certainly be blogging about said trip as soon as I've sifted through the 3,000 odd photos I took.

By the way, when the 3rd of August comes around again next year, as it is bound to do, the government are going to ask all Londoners to travel differently.