Carpetbagger

The last few days have gone by like something akin to a whirlwind; long story short (regular readers, feel free to stifle a yawn) - we finally vacated God's Waiting Room on Thursday and have reconnected with civilisation. So, for the last few days all* my possessions, barring the clothes I'm standing up in, are now in storage - where they will remain until next Friday, by which time we will have deep cleaned and decorated the new gaff from top to bottom.

The above preamble is by way of explaining why the milk bottles** have been piling up outside this blog and the neighbours have been reporting me as a missing person. Though not a prolific writer by any stretch of the imagination, I do like to check in two or three times a week and record the random thoughts that invariably blindside me at 4:00 pm on an idle Tuesday***.

Now that Amazon have my new address I was pleased to take in my first parcel yesterday morning: a recommendation from one of the bloggers**** you'll see over in the right hand margin, led me to a wonderful book - Spoon's Carpets. Kit Caless was sitting in a Wetherspoon's pub reading The Way Inn by Will Wiles in which the main character travels the country living in a low budget chain of hotels. Every time he gets out of the hotel lift he sees a different painting which he soon works out form part of a giant collage. Kit then had a lightbulb moment and realised that every Spoon's carpet is totally unique. A hit blog was born - which members of the public embraced and became willing participants and photographers; not to mention enthusiastic beer sommeliers. As a guide it's every bit as important as the Good Beer Guide. And much funnier. I'm heading out later today into our new bustling high street and know that when I cross the threshold of the (huge) Spoons (The Samuel Hall) I will be keeping my head down and my chin up.

Finally today, I've always been fascinated by numbers and sequencing of numbers - Fibonacci being one that has always intrigued me: 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, 13, 21, 34, 55, 89...

But far and away the most personal of sequences (and everyone reading this will have their own unique sequence) now has a new addition: 86, 11, 20, 17, 108, 25, 29, 17, 79, 111, 24, 90. You don't need to be an employee at Bletchley Park to crack this particular code: I was born in No. 86, and 90 now sits on all our new correspondence - nicely rounding off today's offering.

Feel free to share your unique set of (house) numbers.

* The packers even packed my glasses. I'd only put them down for five minutes
** Do milkmen still deliver bottles?
*** With thanks to Baz Luhrmann
**** Pete Brown - the UK's finest beer writer

Girl - My Number

The only creed you need

You may have a personal creed. Or you may not. You may well wing it most of the time - I know I do. And just when you think things should be wrapped up nicely and everything in its place, you find life still throws bouncers in your general direction. Thankfully, most of them whistle by your ears without actually making contact. Most of them. I'm hoping one day things will start to settle down. Or, maybe, this is how it's meant to be. Who knows? All I do know is - don't be reckless with other people's hearts, and don't put up with people that are reckless with yours. It's the only creed you need.