LA PLUME DE MA TAUNT

 Lovely unexpectedly thoughtful day, the kind that sets a man thinking.

I am literally at the end of my tether with no view of a future here save bills and bullying and despairing over living in a country whose lingo I lack - so it was a pleasant break.

 Electricians everywhere and no juice from early morn to 3pm. The lads were a great crowd but they had a gleam of satisfaction over announcing Computer Cold Turkey for the next few hours. I moved smoothly to the Ovation and it was business as usual.

Sod's Law also dictated I had a ton of work to do so i dug out my old Parker and a fave pen my girls had given me and sat focused and quiet on the patio.

PENS - look closely up there, there's a gold Parker and a dappled plume that was born for a left-hander.

When the double theft sank in of my mother's filch of my personal jewelry and smooth handing over to my brother in Villa Thefti, I lost no time checking my inventory of other belongings and spiriting them away to safety.

It was good to dig them out, but listen to this - I returned them to their hidey-hole. Old habits etc.

What more needeth a man than tools of his trade, a work bench, and a view of Paradise?

JACKET PHOTO - one photo I particularly like [below] and, had i fulfilled my promise as a quirky writer, would have offered to the publishers as jacket pic.

Reminds me - I promoted two glam authors: media star Melvyn (Lord to you) Bragg, and the austere Piers Paul Read.

Piers once commented on Melv's super-star wind-blown perfect teethed granite jaw PR shot. Instead of reviews on the back panel we devoted it to a full shot of Lord B (as he wasnt at the time and I'm just sorry David didnt live to see his boy gonged)

"I'd want a photo that showed me a little more interested in writing ..."

Piers had a wonderfully dour snap and I assured him it his was fine.

That's my 'Piers' shot.