Dear All,
My apologies for the prolonged radio silence. It is Guy Fawkes week here and the dust has seldom settled long enough to write. On a related note, in my previous existence, the one shared emotion students and federal government employees of all ages shared in common particularly, during winter storms was hope. Hope delivered usually in the form of a radio address that our institutions were closed and our presence and coats for that matter no longer required.
Mornings here are meteorologically more predictable and therefore the pre-conditions for “hope” inevitably more complex. Hope the other day for example came in the form of a far more sinister garment than the one displayed here. A bomber man, wearing a suicide vest, was rumored to be roaming the town and our stable of jeeps and their jockeys, grounded until further notice.
The call came out on Channel 12 rather than Magic 100 but the end result was the same. Within minutes I had returned to my room and back to my most basic default setting + a pair of Calvins (sorry no photo). Lying like an astronaut in order not to quash my quaff I jumped the mooon several times and was just drifting further off into space when my peace was shattered by the muffled bang -- of a text message. The equivalent of the snow plow had made it through and my driver was waiting outside.
Unfortunately it was a case of High Ho, High Ho, and its back to work we go…
Cheers,
Mw
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