I seem to have gone down with a touch of blog-stiffness recently. You know the thing - when you come to the screen to do the usual and the fingers, the psyche, the mechanism that kicks in and gets the words down puts up resistance and won't move. I might hazard a few guesses about why this is, but nothing conclusive offers itself. A similar resistance is also showing itself in comments sections, so I haven't been saying much of late even though I have been looking in on y'all. Normal service will doubtless resume. A degree of doubt, though, is probably a good thing.
Today is rain and snow-white sky, a wind moving the very top of the hazelnut tree, and I say it is lovely. Blue sky and sun generally lift the spirits of those living in Blighty, but they ask so much of one. They ask that you don't let any of it slip away useless and they ask you to be exuberantly joyful. A white sky and rain you can lose yourself in - or perhaps it is the other way round. You lose yourself in blue sky and find yourself again under the modest cloak of the white, which does not mind if you do nothing in particular with it or beneath it.
Dear reader, how are you today? A question for you to wander into, or around. Under what kind of sky do you find yourself?
