I found this today, while I was having a tidy-up of my hard drive. You know how it is, heaps of old documents on the floor, faded photos drifting into the corners, unlistened-to music piping away mournfully. It's a nightmare in there, like an episode of How Clean Is Your House. But virtual.
So I decided to clear out some of the junk today. All the old work documents from three jobs ago, stuff I have five copies of in different folders, photos that I have scanned and edited and no longer need the huge originals of.
I think this was part of an email to a mate, but I can't remember now. I wrote it before I started blogging, so it's at least three years old. Maybe older.
My favourite story in the local paper this week is the one about the local Morris men performing to the local skate park regulars after a sign saying they were starting a bit later than planned had been "blown down by the wind". The assembled crowd of "about 20 people", not seeing the blown-down sign, gave up and went home. Apparently the "youngsters" ended up by joining in with the dancers. On the bandstand. In the rain. With floodlights. I wish I'd been there.
I was given a leaflet about the forthcoming Warminster festival the other day. There's a great endorsement from Lord Bath on the back - a picture of him looking a bit startled, as if they've snapped a shot when he wasn't expecting it, possibly whilst he's answering his front door, and a quote:
"It is of great interest to me when my local town chooses to put on a Festival. I know that I shall enjoy it as much as everyone else."
My interpretation is: "I'm not involved, but I understand there's something going on locally. I don't imagine anyone will enjoy it much."
I still like that idea of Lord Bath being startled by the photographer as he opens the front door at Longleat. I shall miss him now he's retiring. If you are going to have a local aristocrat, he really ought to be completely bonkers. We'll have to see how his lad performs in the role of Insane Local Grandee.
At least I'm not posting up all the other stuff I deleted. Small mercies, eh?