So, 2020 has arrived in the guise of a beautiful morning. I’m going to a football match this afternoon, then tonight there’s a new Doctor and a new Dracula. Not a bad start for any geeky, gothic, football fans out there. And I reckon there’ll be pizza.
I don’t know how rough I look, but four times the guy on that stall in our local shopping centre has asked me if I’ve made a will yet.
It is Michaelmas day today. I told my wife, Jen, that traditionally it is the day when you feast on goose, fattened on the stubble fields, and that if you eat goose on this day you will never lack money all year. And also, it is as said that Elizabeth I was eating goose on Michaelmas Day 1588 when she heard about the defeat of the Armada and therefore declared that everyone should eat it on this day to commemorate the victory.
My wife replied “We are having pizza.”
I’ve been watching Springwatch. Those baby chicks are just like my kids. Always got their mouths open, always wanting feeding.
I think I should have gone down the cuckoo route.
It’s only just sank in, while reading something tonight, that 1979 was FORTY years ago.
That’s a hell of a lot of sleeps.
Now, I’m no marine biologist . . .
I just read that in nineteenth century Britain suicide was illegal and the maximum punishment for attempting it was the death penalty.
Now, is it just me . . .