A homage to loading screens.
In which nothing happens, once more
Currently, I’m trying to hunt down some second-hand picture frames. Good-looking, ideally quite cheap, second-hand picture frames. I’ve trawled through the local charity shops and the local junk shops, but good-quality picture frames seem to be in rather short supply.
In which I worry about feeling ill so much I feel ill
Sickness is a strange thing. So psychological, that you can almost think yourself sick. I’m wondering if it’s going to happen to me – and, of course, wondering about it makes it more and more likely.
In which we’re not impressed
Christmas came, and brought the flu. I was in bed most of yesterday, aching, coughing and sleeping.
Or, I may have caught something
Bleurgh. Cold. All blocked up. Runny nose. No appetite. Can’t stop sneezing.
In which we post updates on a few things
My rather cruel jibe at Fife the other day only seems to have invited a single complaint, from Greig, who pointed out that Fife was the birthplace of Sir Sandford Fleming. I’d never heard of Sir Sandford Fleming myself; but it turns out that he was rather important, particularly in Canada. He invented time zones, designed the first Canadian stamp, and surveyed the route of the first trans-Canadian railway line; more importantly, he was apparently the inventor of the in-line roller skate.
In which things happen in remote places
Breaking news report: a bird has died of H5 bird flu, in Fife. The authorities are concerned, and have sealed off the area, for fear that it might spread to civilisation.
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