Some things you should never start

How difficult is it to clean a bathroom?  I mean it is small and make up of tiles.  All you need is a good mop and a healthy dash of bleach and you are away.

This is the theory, but my cleaning also incorporated an element of re-arrangement.    And that was disaster.

Suffice to say that the flood which ensued was not really my fault and anyway it was contained in the bathroom and did not spread to the bedroom.  And the floor is unusually clean now. 

My reading of early Forster continues and, with the listening to John Betjeman’s engaging poetry with a musical background by Jim Parker I feel as if I have been transported to another rather distant age where people say the word “off” with more vowels than I would have thought possible to articulate!  Does the word “tripthong” exist I wonder?  If it does then certain words of Sir John certainly give graphic examples for consideration.

With Toni away in Terrassa celebrating, if that is the right word, the First Communion of some poor child sucked into the unscrupulous theological abuse for which the Roman Church is famous.  And that last sentence gives you some idea of why I am in Castelldefels and not joining in the familial jollifications!

 

I think that I might have reached my FLOB or final level of brownness, beyond which no amount of sun worship will deepen the hue.  The next stage in my adherence to unthinking discipleship of the sun will probably result in the flesh curling away from the bones!

I am frankly unhappy with my shade as I have clear memories of what three weeks in Greece did for me.  There is a photograph, somewhere, of my lounging on the stage set of “Tristan and Isolde” in The New Theatre (for reasons which now escape me) which would have allowed me to say, “Mislike me not for my complexion” with some degree of aptness.    Those days of chocolate darkness seem to have become a thing of the past, though my present colour is much more profound than that of my Catalan colleagues!

And yes, I do know about skin cancer.

Early start tomorrow, but the days are drifting inexorably away towards June and the laxity of endings.