After what seems like a short but lengthy spell of self imposed itinerant eternity we've returned to our renovated house complete with a renovated TV. It's time to relax in front of the big screen. For some reason Channel 4 is championing battered looking actor Bill Murray and his cellist pal as they are playing gigs here and there. As some kind of career change it makes the news in a day mostly filled with the usual tripe and self inflicted misery.
That's my tired out feet at the bottom of the picture, supported by some surgical device pretending to be furniture. Because today was a moving day we feasted on fish and chips as is the local custom (I was taught never to begin a sentence with "because", this must be the first time I've done such an unspeakable thing since 1967). Now I almost feel free from the puritan curse of a dour Scottish education.
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