a mystery

I have lost the remote from the TV. I have searched the dustbin, recycling (several times) beds, cupboards, pockets, drawers, fridge, down sofa and chairs. The trouble is, in such a small house there are not many places to look for things. I have made frequent supplications (in triplicate, as instucted) to St Ann  and St Anthony who have both always obliged in the past with specs, keys, purses. The only visitors have been friend J with Madge and Dotty two small dogs who all swear as to their innocence. I tried to buy a replacement in Curry`s but the instructions are gobbledook. I can`t settle to anything until I find it. Oh dear.

censored!

I did a daft thing today. The censor form arrived on the mat. I will be efficient, I thought ,and set to work straight away filling it in, first in pencil, then black ink as instructed. I had a few problems with religion, Am I a Christian? There was no space for Quaker. And how do I describe my last job in one line? But I did it neatly,sealed it up and popped it into the post box over the road feeling self righteous. Friend K came for the day `You should n`t have done that` she cried `It has to be done on 27th March, you have committed a heinous offence!`What will happen to me now I wonder?
I have been over-run with viruses, they kept popping up all over the place. I had the helpful bloke who sorted out the mango and apple juice on the keyboard recently, here nearly all day. They were talking viruses in the afternoon.  All well now I hope but it was a nasty experience. 

Oh who would o`er the downs so free ,Oh who would with me ride?

I had begun to think that my cycling days were over, as i could not tackle the gentlest of hills and felt wobbly. But I took my trusty Swiss bike (given to me by Swiss Heidi from the writing group many years ago,and which has taken me from Le Havre to Rouen, over the Pennines and various other epic routes) to the excellent James in his small shed at Hassocks station) who admired my stainless steel spokes and chromium handlebars and worked on it all day. The result: I can now ride like the wind up and down hills and do not feel wobbly any more.   All it needed was a bit of oil and some TLC    And that`s a lesson for life.
I have just been on another train trip, this time to Bath staying one night at Limpley Stoke en route. No wartery disasters this time. It was lovely chuffing through beautiful countryside, and staying in houses with lovely views and kind friends. I went to a talk at the Bath Literary festival on poor Virginia Woolf. What a sad life. Must re-read some of her novels now with new insights.