To Have old train tickets and to have not much to do with them…


I have just finished reading Ernest Hemingway To Have and Have Not… I do like Hemingway, but he’s always a bit fishy for me…

It makes me went to start calling drunk people “rummies” and tell everyone to “take it easy.”

On completing Hemingway I have begun Fyodor Dostoyevsky, Notes from underground… which seemed a good option as it is a week today that I last went to work and, in fact, apart from a trip to the doctors (which you could hardly call an outing) it was a week today that I was last outside!  I, unlike the main protagonist in the book, have not decided to withdraw from society to scribble away about my suffering (I’m not doing that here.. am I?) but instead have a stinky virus thing.  Pickle took the day off work yesterday and looked after me… he’s back at work today…

 We get a lot of train tickets from Pickle going to work… I’ve been saving them up…

 

I don’t have quite enough to write, “There’s no place like…” at the front yet.

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