It’s all going Pete Tong!

Well, not all, but enough to make me pace up and down the living room like a caged Tiger.

First of all, I have had a week of phone calls which I cannot answer. batphoneSod’s law is in full force on my phone, which means that it only rings when I am doing something or in the kind of company which precludes answering a floozy-phone (think Bat-phone, but in pink, with sequins and possibly fur). I mean, can you imagine the Vicar’s face? I’m fairly sure that any conversation I might have on there would run the risk of putting him off his tea and scones. Unfortunately, 99% of the callers declined the nice robot’s offer of taking aunbranded-pink-fluffy-retro-style-phone message, so I can’t call back either. One chap who did leave a message was so drunk that I could only translate one word in five and although he did leave a number for me to call him back, I have no idea what it was.

Secondly, my visit to Inverness will have to be postponed. Something’s come up (no, not like that, you with the one track mind), but I will be there on the 3rd and 4th of November and if I get a chance, I will pop by for a flying visit before then.

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