I have a follower! No, no money exchanged hands. We’re talking about somebody who willingly signed up to read my rubbish. So, thank you, dear follower. Now I can go to my grave – if I’m lucky enough to get a grave, that is – safe in the knowledge that for just one brief microsecond in my life, somebody actually listened to me. Sorry, what was that, Colin?
I’ve had a tough week battling with blog gadgets, Facebook settings, useless “help files”, naughty students and nosey children . . .
What are you doing you, Dad?
Just checking my mail.
So why are you looking at photos?
Oh, you know.
What’s for dinner?
Are you hungry?
Can't you wait another three hours while I install this bloody site meter?
I'd better check the fridge.