A Single Glass of Beer

  has provoked the sort of hangover that is only excusable if one has consumed several bottles of wine followed by generous dosing of hard liquor.

I baked a self-pity loaf and put it with the work-avoidance-food mountain that I have created this week.

Luckily it is the day for gently hoovering the oldies and visiting the man-with-no-voice.

Now I am home trying to focus  on being creative but I have a headache, I am blurry and bluebottles keep buzzing on the window next to me.

The window is a big attraction for big flies, I have a newspaper handy and I like to think I can finesse the swat just hard enough to knock them dead but cleanly off the window. I just picked up the paper to deal with the new buzzers and yesterday's 'death  toll' crawled out of the pages and  back onto the window. Not having the motor skills to attempt clean carnage my window is now covered with squashed bodies.

Speechless

For one year I have known a man who’s voice comes out in burpy spasms and air gasps. When I first met him I assumed that he had a bit of a cold then I guessed there must be something more serious going on and it seemed rude to mention it. 

Today I asked him if he had a sore throat.

No it’s been like this for fifteen years - my daughter passed away and then some months later I woke up with no voice at all, just this much has come back.