North Front in this instance being Dallas, where Ma LSP reclines on the sickbed of a fractured spine. That sounds awful, and it is, but she's made of stern stuff and's recovering on schedule. The important thing, they tell me, is to encourage movement, get up and go as opposed to sinking into the sofa forever.
No small caveat, people do, they break something, sink into the sofa, lose the will to live and die. No joke, and to that end we encourage movement which, as the Philosopher assures, is a sign of life. So, thank God all's on an upwards trajectory to full recovery here. She's made of stern stuff, which helps. But that's just North Front or more accurately Home Front. What about everything else?
It seems Pakistan's got itself into a border war with Afghanistan, and we have to wonder, is this some kind of type of future UK polity? Outcome undecided. Then there's Iran or Persia, an ancient civilization controlled by a savage barbarian moon cult. Will we strike or will we not? All this to say nothing of the UK's latest HomoRainbowGreen/IslamoMarxist win in Gunchester. A lot going on, no doubt about it, and here, in Dallas?
Making dinner for the aged p. and voraciously reading PG Wodehouse. You know, it's been years since I did that and those missed years were ill-spent.
As you were,
LSP
PS. Are you recovered from HST?
PS. Speaking of PGW, who famously said that the world he wrote about was small and is now non-existent, Listen up. PGW's vibe certainly existed in the '90s in London. I know this. Pan to a kitchen in South Ken where I'd been dropped off by the faithful driver, an I noticed a chap with a ridiculous red suitcase on the kitchen table.
One thing leads to another, and I asked the kitcheneer, "I say, are you something to do with the government?" He looked at me and raised an eyebrow, "I'm a Cabinet Minister, which is why I have this red suitcase."
I retreated, dear friends, to Lanson.
