Damp Yellow

A first postscript - how high must your head have been to have left those cushions out?  oh hilarity and absentmindedness, you beauties.  Add to that a stunningly abrupt ineptness on the phone.  Such a fool thou art.  Never the forte.  Remember the Clegg connection.  Must try and find the veiled reference to that within...  And yet, and yet.  A little under 48 hours or so, at one of ye olde Halifax favorites.  Imagine that, a chance.  Make of it what you will.  Surely across an ocean somewhere, Anna's thumbs will be held...


...And the uncles and eggplant proved good, a proper walk home and everything, although an aborted potential Saturday following a hectic day of sailing and first dip in the condo pool for the 6 week old.  A bit of a shambles but understandable.  I did like looking up and seeing the familiar Princely book on the back shelf, somethings remain.  We now wait to see what might become of election day.  Who can say?  In the mean time, the need to get out on the water more crucial than ever given the fading embers of the season.  Manana?  With a goal of sending the lady home drunkenly to cook for her papa?  Perchance. 

Now to the AGM of 1 Prince in this increasingly bizarre world of events.  Canada gets shelled by Honduras to leave us without hope, while we wait in hope for an Obama comeback.  Come what may.  Let's at least hope the random Claire sees fit to trust in fate and voyage over to middle England for some randomness... 

As the past morphs into the bright unknown future once more.