I was given this delightful catalogue of work by Shaun Doyle and Mally Mallinson, a product of their show entitled "Ecce Homo Tesco". So kind were they, that, despite my rapidly weakening protestations, they even reimbursed my train fare. While I recovered my wits we discussed the fortunes of the gallery which seem to have ebbed and flowed with the phases of the moon. Generably though they seemed to be doing tolerably well though it was typical they told me they had received a sizeable Arts Council grant to go to this year's Zoo only to have the organisers cancel the fair.
After a largely liquid lunch we parted in good heart promising to meet again in two days. I had decided to make the most of my error by making a visit to my elderly parents who I had not seen in a fair while. My mother's first words as I crossed the threshold were "Oh you've got a bit of a tummy".
I have become obsessed with a hair on my nose. I can't see it but I know it's there.
-- posted abroad