I've got to bloody well post something and it has taken me three-quarters of an hour to get this damned photo to the size I wanted so this will have to be short. I went away the weekend before last to stay with Jonathan and Louise in Stony Stratford near Milton Keynes and it did me a lot of good, as close to a country idyll as I have access to at the moment. They made me very welcome, as ever. The painting of their house, the red door, is by Louise's father whose name I cannot remember.
I'm partly posting this to compete with and try to emulate my friend Charles - I am losing hands down, emulating my hat - who posts with ease and style and flair and all round brilliance on his blog, usually using a photo with humour to start on which he hangs his piece. I thought if I could at least use photos for a start, some of Charles' ease and creative flow might rub off, mimetically. It is maddening all these people who can produce, the millions of them. They should all, I feel sometimes, be shot, unless I am made to join their number by a decree of some higher force (not the G20, meeting down the road today).
I'm also posting this to cross-reference to a post of Charles' - done, his latest - in order to finally try to work out how the cross-referencing works in the blogosphere, hopefully with Charles' help. In theory, when I link to him on my blog, for example two lines above, he should automatically get a message in his email box informing him of this fact, I think. In theory then, the conversation and cross-referencing goes on - I've even bloody well forgotten what the cross-referencing is called in blogo language - forming a network of references spreading out across multiple bloggers, towards Mars. Until you have this aspect of the blogging software going, my understanding is that you are not blogging in a full sense.
