The gardening of Eden

Adam and Eve
grow their own
apple tree.

(A bad workman
blames his tools)

Dressed to kill

...or cook,
or make cutbacks,
or something.

Captain's log

Medical update: I've had my x-ray, in the Palace of Illness. Results unknown, as yet, but I seem to have avoided catching the lurgy. I don't like hospitals.

I keep promising more stuff on this blog, but it hasn't materialised. I think that's because stuff doesn't actually materialise by itself; I've got to produce it by working, rather than promising. If only they'd taught me that in wizard school.

Birds of a tether

Stork's inbirdanity to Stork.

My pleurisy has resurfaced for the third time, so after this I'm hoping it will drown (or I will). I'm supposed to be going for an x-ray but my local hospital is in the grip of a vomiting bug epidemic and has virtually shut down. Much as I enjoy vomiting it doesn't really mix with chest pains.

I'm sorry this blog is turning into a medical bulletin. I used to scoff at my elderly relatives who seemed to get together just so they could discuss their ailments. Now I can join in, and eat all the biscuits.