Keep In Touch. Drop Me A Line

Hello. It's been a while. I am going to ramble on a bit in this post, because I am having trouble getting my brain into gear. How are you? Seriously I mean it. I would like to know. No really I mean it. OK I admit I only this second thought of asking the question, but I am going to run with it. So how are you? Feeling good or feeling bad? You can tell me. I'm a good listener.

I would invite you to send me an email but, do you see that email address up there on the right? Yes that's it johnbain@googlemail.com. Well sadly I don't have a clue about how to go about retrieving any mail sent to that address. It's crazy isn't it?. I never chose that address, or even asked for it. Or maybe I did without realising it. For all I know some of you might already have sent emails to it. If you have and are wondering why you have not received a reply, that's the reason. I can't find them. That and possibly the fact that when it comes to computers I am as thick as two short planks. Two very very short thick planks sawn from the densest tree in the forest. That's how thick I am. I don't care who knows it either. I'm just too thick to care!

I have several other email addresses also, but sadly I can't remember what they are or why I have them. In the far recesses of my memory the word hotmail tries desperately to get noticed, but to no avail. I can only apologise to all you lovely people out there, especially the ladies, who have sent emails expressing your deep love and yearning for me. Believe me I am heartbroken at missing all the opportunities to get to know you better. In the meantime all I can suggest is that you use the comments section at the bottom of this page to let me know your feelings.

Not much has been happening these last few days whilst I have been away from my blog. I cannot even use the excuse of being too busy. Because I haven't been.

Oh the fox came again. In broad daylight. Took Mr Christian Grey. Rushed in, grabbed him and took off. Tricia saw the whole thing. She was extremely upset. So the three hens, Miss White, Miss Grey (no relation) and Miss Brown are now widowed. Very sad. Miss White is broody and is incubating nine eggs. Whether or not they are fertile though I do not know. Mr Christian Grey wasn't, despite his name, the most amorous of cockerels. I ever only saw him doing the business once. Although he may have been shy and kept his lovemaking secret and in the hen house, the same as I do. Keep it secret I mean. I do not make love in the hen house. Well not since I was a teenager, and me and Mary Brown we... Hey it was raining. The hen house was empty. No hen's were traumatised! Look it was only the once OK. Her dad caught us. I ain't never run so fast in my life. It ain't easy jumping a barbed wire fence with your trousers around your ankles! Anyway we shall see if any chicks hatch out. R I P old cock.

This morning early I visited the doctor's surgery. Actually I went to see the nurse. Nice looking woman. Obviously fancied me a lot. I can always tell. She wanted a sample of my blood. Not wishing to disappoint I let her have a whole armful, which hopefully will keep her happy for a couple of years at least. She never even gave me a biscuit or a lollipop for being a brave boy. It was quite painful when she stuck the needle in. I kicked up a bit of a fuss. She said I shouldn't be upset about having a little prick! It's easy for her to say. To be honest I did feel a prick though. I quite often do.

I got the old tractor running today. And I mended the lawn mower. Again! And I fixed a leak in the brake fluid reservoir thingy in my campervan. My friend Simon came to help me. He is a mechanical genius. I don't mean Simon is mechanical. He isn't a robot. I mean he is very good at fixing mechanical things such as engines. You could say he's a mechanic. Except he is actually a carpenter. I wonder if he could make an engine out of wood? That would be interesting. Probably too much friction involved. All those bits of wood rubbing together might cause a fire. Could sell the idea to boy scout groups perhaps. They like causing fire by rubbing sticks together.

My extremely handsome son George has gone away for a week. He is camping with his friends. He actually can make fire by rubbing two sticks together. Not that he needs to. He took a lighter with him. But if he lost the lighter and found himself cold and hungry at the top of a mountain in Scotland he would be able to light a fire. Provided he had some sticks with him that is. There tends to be a scarcity of tree's in the high mountains. This is the reason lot's of people freeze to death up there. No matches and no tree's to make matches with. I am not concerned because EHS George hasn't gone to Scotland. Anyway he has got a lighter and a spare in case he loses one. God knows what he will do if he loses the spare one. I suppose he will have to resort to rubbing two sticks together. He knows how to do that. I may already have said.

The next time you look in perhaps I shall have something interesting to say. I do hope so. This rambling on has given me a headache. Goodness only knows what it has done to you. Thank you for sticking with it till the end though. I can't believe you kept on reading.

Good night. God bless.