Oh for pity's sake it's the middle of the night already and I still have to write a blog entry.  I haven't eaten supper yet either.  It can't be that late if I haven't eaten supper yet.

            Yes it can.

            My days usually do kind of flash by but for the next five days I am under the colossal, the description-beggaring strain of having to wash my own salad and chop my own hellhound chicken.*  Peter is in Scotland for these five days;  he has a proper author gig at the...