Old-Fashioned Fruitcake
Who found it was just as I feared:
While barrowing wood
For next winter’s good
Found a weta (med-small) in his beard.
To my great surprise, he did not yell, scream, give himself an emergency beard-ectomy, or burn the house down. Truly a deep and mysterious man, the Caped Gooseberry.
Ladies! Gentlemen! Small furry creatures from Alpha Centauri!
It gives me great pleasure to introduce you to the ripening fruit of the Caped Gooseberry’s teeming brain: circulex.
Pause in your wild cheering for a moment, and cast your minds back to earlier this week, when I asked you to consider how it would affect you if you were required to pay to send emails across borders – and the longer the email the bigger the cost.
It seems rather ridiculous – who would put up with such a thing, in this digital hyperconnected age? – and yet this is the situation we face with making payments across borders.
I think we can all agree on the best thing about being a Disney princess. Handsome princes? No. People joining in when you spontaneously burst into song and/or dance? Close, but no.
It’s having animals do your housework for you. (I’m also rather jealous of Merlin’s self-washing dishes.) You know the drill: sing cheerfully, woodland creatures appear, housework magically happens.
Recently, I got to experience this for myself, when I discovered a fat little mouse doing the dusting in my bathroom. (Side note: I could have made a couple of mice out of the dust-bunnies he discovered. Clearly, my broom is not getting into the corners around the plumbing properly.)