Steve's Online Diary
Copyright Comeuppance Ltd. 2002 - 2012 This diary may not be reproduced in whole or part without permission.
My Auntie Gertie comes to mind whenever snow falls. She was childless. She was my dad’s older sister, one of several, and maybe 15 years older. Dad is the youngest of 9 survivors. Two now survive, Uncle Cyril and dad. Auntie Gertie was a favourite. Childless, she was, but a kind nanny to me and a sibling or so of my own.
Somebody hacked into Van Morrison’s website and uploaded a story announcing the birth of George Ivan Morrison 111, the mother allegedly one Gigi Lee. All a fraud, of course. But 64 ain’t exactly past it, so the possibility did exist that the story, at least until officially denied, could have the ring of truth about it. The cynic in me stirs: maybe Van has a new record out? Damn it – never!
Back in Suffolk. Dunnocks, a pair, are feeding from the cobbles under the ancient yew tree, which is certainly older than the house, possibly even 500 years old. Great tits are fly-hopping between nut-holder hanging from the pergola entrance and the yew from which another hangs.
Stranger Comes To Town - on the home run. Three days remain held at Leeders Farm and it should all be wrapped by Wednesday night. But I am not sure. Feels like so much to do still; too much for the time remaining. May need more time, even before Christmas.
My dear mate Drew McAdam suggests I concentrate my next tour of research in Helmand Province or somewhere equally perilous, as then the tax inspector couldn’t possibly deduce that I was on holiday. Drew is not a man without wit and wisdom, so he must be taken seriously. On second thoughts.......
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