What editorial policy?

Barton today: The wind blows, trees sway, Delia (cat) sleeps, sky is grey, and I've just remembered that there's a huge bag if Minstrels in the fridge. Game. On.

Called in at the office of the local paper earlier, Editor Man hadn't replied to an email of about a fortnight ago. Confirming my worst fears re The Barton Post, the young hound at reception made some remark along the lines of "yeah definitely, write something, send it in, it's almost bound to be printed - cos it's all about y' know local people and stuff". "Eeeek" thought I. Though that's not to say that I was turned off.

Scottish Dave came over yesterday evening, his early in the week wobble seemed largely to have passed - brief analysis revealed "work strain x social vortex = wobble". He certainly left in better spirits than when he arrived. He referred to the house here as 'a bit hippy like' (we are indeed a house of nuts and fruits, as also reflected in the food we eat).

Stomach tension is building prior to Monday's meal out with Emma - must try to stay relaxed. Reminds me of an appalling one-liner that I blurted when out once (and once only surprisingly) with a German. Having not eaten for a couple of days (a bug), a really spicy Indian meal seemed the perfect shock to wake up the old digestive system. Mid-meal, and suddenly mindful of the potential lavatorial consequence of the dining experience, I heard myself utter the words "There could be violent repercussions here". My German friend looked alarmed and enquired "What do you mean". My response yielded a puzzled expression. We did not meet again.

Wishing pre-weekend wellness to all, guten nachmittag.