Sunday, August 30, 2009


I need Gmail to introduce a whinetrap (some would say, I'm sure, that this blog could do with a whine filter too). I tell you, it's not my fault though. I'm English and we have it in the genes. We can't help ourselves: the slightest hint of adversity and a noise like a fleet of mosquitoes fills the air. We are not called the whinging Poms for nothing.
I often send emails I wish I could recall and re-word. It's part of the cost of being impulsive. It could be worse, I suppose. I could have married in haste and... oh wait.
So in a bid to introduce some responsibility to my decision making -- because life doesn't have a whinetrap for people who make stupid choices too quickly -- I am thinking about stalling my trip home some. It's for good reasons, which I won't rehearse here, because anyone who actually cares already knows what they are. It's sensible. I don't like being sensible, but after all, I am not really 12, despite appearances.