If you receive my blog via the wonders of email, you’ll have no idea of the seismic changes that have taken place in recent hours.
The “Substack” incarnation of the personal words I pollute the internet with is no more. It has shuffled off this mortal coil. It is not sleeping - it has ceased to exist. It’s not worth wondering why - although you might want to look up “wanderlust” in your dictionary if you’re pre-disposed to wonder about such things. I wonder if modern dictionaries mention Paul McCartney’s album “Give My Regards to Broad Street” in their definition of “wanderlust” ?
(this is where I’ve encouraged you to head off in the direction of YouTube, Spotify, or wherever else you might find music to find out what one earth I’m on about)
If you were subscribed by email to the previous incarnation of the blog, you’re still subscribed. Your emails will just arrive from the mighty Wordpress word-hosting cloud instead.
Anyway. Enough writing about writing. I’m pretty sure writing about writing is a good way of breaking the simulation - you know - the world we’re all living in. The one where cars appear as you approach junctions, and such like. I’ve written about that too.
In other news, we went to the pub quiz this evening and spent a few hours with a good friend. The world needs good friends. I just hope I meet the bar from time to time - I’m only too aware that I’ve almost vanished inside myself in recent weeks and months. Life happens, I guess.
Oh crikey - how is it already half past midnight? (or “half past my bedtime”, as my middle daughter once famously coined it).
I should go collapse into bed.