It’s been a bit miserable here. Grey and wet and uninspiring. Well, I should say that’s the conditions delivered by nature/government/your religon of choice/no religon of your choice/fairies/the postman/the BBC/the voices in your head/the voices in my head/Edgar Rice Burroughs.
However, I feel impervious to such notions. As tired as I am I’ve got a good grip on the handlebars.