The keyboard seems to be kaput. I can use half of it, so that’s all right if the only vowels I need are a and e. The biggest nuisance is that the space bar doesn’t work, so letters sound breathlessly rushed, unless I type one word per line. Or put a full stop between each word, which makes me sound like a robot.
Time to buy a new (waterproof) keyboard, I suppose.
The bishop came tonight. He prefers tea to coffee, is a splendid chap and all went well. I had no idea how many would turn up to the service and provided 70 communion wafers and counted the congregation anxiously in case I would have to scuttle up with reinforcements. 52 present, so, for once, no need to make a fool of myself.
I’m using my son’s spare computer at present. Yes, that’s the sort of son I have, and I’m grateful for it.
Sorry, this is dreadfully dull and once I’m back in business on a keyboard that doesn’t click, I’ll probably delete it and write something frightfully witty and entertaining instead. In the meantime, I’m trying to take a photo of the amazing golden pheasant, but he is a modest bird and turns his back on me when I approach, nonchalently clutching my camera and assuring him that all I want is to give him a handful of corn.