And so the fight goes on

It seems I have been neglecting the important things in life down at Grasshopper Towers.  That week of AmDram, and the crescendo towards Gala Day, have seen me taking my eye off the ball.

So we need to return to battle.  Other things matter not.  It irks me none that Andy Murray needs to garner support and shed his previous Anyone But England mantra as he tweets his best wishes to Mr Rooney for the impending footie, even if I do head down to Aldi to get flags of the other teams in England’s group to wave from the car, or take solace in that tiny amount of Irish blood coursing these veins.  I am not going to get all fractious about the Jubilee, or build up angst ahead of this week’s Question Time.  They matter not.

For it seems that the rug is still being munched.  This morning revealed another patch of bare threads; this after weeks of daily hoovering; of sprays and powders; of windows open and cats climbing in; of smoke bombs; and even of squashing larvae.  And so there are still eggs in residence, hatching yet, devouring.  The sprays and the powders are back out.

One day, if depresssion does not get me first, I might just post some picture of ruined Persian rugs, of floorboards gnawed and scraped.  No lambswool sweaters though, for they’re in the bin.  But the cupboards need to be emptied again, just in case.  But not today.

Today I’ll leave you a couple of articles that you may, or may not enjoy.  Whet your appetite on QT, reflect on the Jubithing.  Then bask in good news, on investment and jobs.  Next week it will all be different – two legs of the relegation play off, serious stuff indeed.

And just on Q, to cheer me up, the postie arrives, with one of those brown cardboard packages from our favourite online retailer.  Robert Macfarlane’s The Old Ways – A Journey on Foot, should be a bit more in depth than Griff on the Drove Roads, for Macfarlane is one of the best nature writers around.  Hopefully no moths in his wanderings round these isles and beyond.


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