It's only blog-believe.

Having not made it back the other evening, I find myself with a reflective 15 minutes. It still continues to rain and therefore Bangkok is scandalously sweaty and steamy, but I have a nice unnatural breeze blowing on my back, so who cares.

I was pleased to hear good news about a plant I have feelings for. 'Olive', or 'Oliver', not sure if Stonewall has had it gendered, is apparently over a metre tall now. Brings a tear to my eye to think he/she was a mere sapling when I brought him/her home as a little bundle of joy to add to my herbacious border, just over two years ago.

Sigh.

Those were the gardening times.

So, day four comes to a close. An interesting day for me but not for those who would surely be appalled by what I consider interesting. I would describe that day for the benefit of myself, so I might compare it with other days, to help me define interesting, but this isn't that type of blog.

Perhaps I should keep a work blog, too.

I see a bad blog arising.

Boggedy blog - don't blog back.

Just a quicky this gloriously sunny morning. Best time of the day in Bangkok before the heat rises.

Felt I ought to pop in before work but actually I've no time to write anything!

Have to blog me and leave me till this evening.

Life's a Blog ...

So incidentally, the place where I stumbled was Kanchanaburi, a place of recent infamy due to the gunning down of two British tourists. Here's an eerie thing. They were staying in the same bungalow - B12, at the same resort - 'Sugar Cane', as we were, when on our little peregrination into the countryside this May.

I also got myself into a little bother with a local Bobby, too, that evening while riding our hired motorbike back to 'Sugar Cane'. The 4 large bottles of lager after 47 days of abstention inexplicably cause me to go the wrong way up a one-way street. Fortunately, aforementioned Peeler did not feel that taking out his revolver and pumping three bullets into my stomach and head was appropriate admonishment for my malfeasance. In fact he found the stupid Farang rather amusing and waved us on to weave back into the night.

I shall certainly think twice before complaining about my eggs on toast again, though, which is one of my numerous proclivities. The usual jeremiad is that either the albumen is aqueous or the yolk adamantine. The perfect fried egg can be onerous to appropriate. I shall be less fastidious in future.

Anyway, as usual, I have great intentions about this blog and shall be back again tomorrow.

Bye bye Blog. Bye bye happiness. Hello loneliness. I think I'm going to blog.