Every day, gentle readers*, I empty this site of spam.  There has been a particularly concerted effort lately on the part of someone who seems to believe, and believe strongly, that my life is incomplete because I do not possess an Hermès handbag, specifically a Birkin.  I know what that is, heck, I even know what a Fendi baguette is, and, trust me, if I wanted one I’d have one by now.  So bog off and pester someone else’s e-manor.

It is a dark morning here in the Kingdom, although briefly a shaft of early sunlight caught the bats unawares, as below.   After 8 Mince had a most enjoyable (for us anyway) evening on Friday when we played at a charity night for the local church.  We had a real stage to perform on, with wings and drapes and everything, I’d honestly forgotten what that was like, and a green room with home made chocolate cake  – the groupies were allowed in too (there would have been Words if that had not been the case) and a lovely lady even came to pour tea for us at half time!  Peaches viewed it all with a slightly jaundiced, been-there-done-that eye,  but the rest of us were fair twittering with excitement.

And last weekend, keeping the very best news until the end, we met Miss Lily Alaine Cook for the first time, and shouted and sang with her big brother Callum.

*If you have not read The Land of Green Ginger by Noel Langley may I suggest that you run out and do so now.  Don’t wait to get dressed.

**That’s a spam joke, I do not mean that any of the above activities are to be considered time wasting or of little consequence.  Heaven forfend.  They are the stuff of life itself.