The flat roof debacle

I love him. I do. I always have, though it took me a good many - too many - years to realise it, during which time I upset a lot of people. But can I work with him?

He's so bloody annoying. I'm told by those who listen, that we bicker perpetually. I don't see it that way. It's just the way we are - and it's causing me gyp.

So. I have a list of jobs that have to be finished before anyone can view the house. It's a long list. A looooong list.

Today, as it was sunny I decided to fix the flat roof. What do I know about roofing? Nothing at all, except, how hard can it be? The answer is very. Very damn hard, especially when you don't have the right type of roofing felt, and an idiot you love to help you.

I could have auditioned for the Minstrels by the time we'd finished, and I say finished half heartedly as I think, *sob wail gnash* I'm going to have to do it again.

And the list goes on....

Tune in for more exciting adventures of 'The Fool and the Blithering Idiot'

Speaking of which - France!

I'm off. Finally, and it's taken a long looooong time, I've put the pile on the market. Yep. On the market this afternoon.

I've no idea where we're going to, except it's not likely to be Blighty. Too effing expensive. So France is - as I type - the planned destination. Don't ask, 'cause I've no idea where in France. Probably an old Cow shed.

Actually, I quite fancy New Zealand. It's good enough for Frodo, though rather distant from my druggy friends in London ... I could grow my own, I suppose.

Ah well, you live and learn. I've learnt you have to earn money to pay bills, otherwise nondescript suits get upset. I've decided I don't like playing 'the game' where you slave to pay for a place you don't really want to be. What's the point?

I will write both music and 'fiction', and I will do it where I can get up at four in the morning and record a drum kit without having upset neighbours hammering on the door.

I will, I will, I will Mr Fawlty.