I have lots of ideas for future blogs, some I have made notes, some are recorded on the little voice recorder I carry about with me on my daily walks. But I have to concentrate on the novel I am desperately trying to finish, so no blogs for a while. I probably won't even write any poems. I'm tied to my wordprocessor, working my way through my fifth revision. So see you all later in the year.
Oh, here's a snippet. Great Northern Hotel, Peterborough. Me: "What kind of red wine have you got?" Barman looks at the refrigerated display cabinet, opens it, picks out a bottle.
"I think you'll find all the wines in there are white. The reds are out on the shelf over there." He looks bemused, goes along the shelf, and comes back with three bottles for me to choose. One is a Taylor's Late Vintage Port. The second is a Harvey's Amontillado Sherry. But the third is a bottle of South African Pinotage.
I said "I'll have a glass of that one please." Should I have told him about Port and Sherry? I think not.
See you all later in the year, unless I feel a sudden urge to untie myself from my desk. The novel is called "Holding Hands at Midnight." It is a very complicated four-way love story. Watch this space.
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