The world of work has reclaimed me this week, after I had been sucessfully hiding behind a bush from it for five months. I feel as though my brain has been beaten with a beaty-stick and deep fried in very old fat. Funny, then that at this moment, I want nothing with as much determined passion as a plate of cod and chips swimming in its very own Jus-de-Coronary Disease.
I will write a proper post this week (honest) as there is plenty to write about: we are in Watford which is much nicer than it sounds and I have already seen a scene of Royston-Vasey-like creepy weirdness while I myself was sitting up a tree.
That'll keep you guessing, won't it?
I'll be back after my chips, a long sleep and another day back in the saddle-sore-saddle.