I am here now and again.

Summer is a goin' out. An apparently sunny day drenches me to the skin during one of the more extreme outbursts of nature's sense of irony. That'll teach me to wear sandals and a toe-ring in late August.

My neighbour cuts my grass for me, sweet thing that he is. The sun ripens my hanging-basket tomatoes, which were an experiment -- I won't try that again. They fruited profusely, but they taste of nothing. Back to the plastic gro-bags.

Other people's lives are soap operas and I just watch them. I'd like a bit of drama in mine, but the best I can do at the moment is a slowly maturing love affair that has the potential to be a vintage one or might just be corked. Who knows? Perhaps the grape variety is wrong...

Very inconstant. More soon.

How liberal are you?


Apparently, I'm Hilary Clinton.

It appears I still remember that Donny Osmond's favourite colour is purple. Hmm.

More than struck down. Mowed down. I hate the flu.


Looks like BlairBush are going to war. The phoneyness of the 'waiting for the arms inspectors' charade is really appalling. And we're told they're doing this because they're Christians.As Mark Steel observes in last week's Independent: "I know there are countless interpretations of the meaning of Christ, but if Bush and Blair believe they're behaving in a Christian way, they must be under the impression that Jesus was a Roman. Every Easter they must think, "How marvellous to celebrate the time the mighty Jesus secured his position with a well-planned campaign of crucifixions, in his war against miracles."