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 A tentative blog to test the temperature. |
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Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end. So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.     |
| Beetles Several years ago, I wrote a poem entitled A Tiny Black Beetle (for those who are interested):
It was about a very small beetle that I’d noticed in the bathroom. It was walking very purposefully across the tiled floor and, to me, it seemed very much like writing a novel. Its goals were clear but its path beset with innumerable obstacles and distractions. I have thought of that beetle many times over the years, not least because the poem I wrote for it did rather well in the eyes of the few who read it. The strange thing is that I never set eyes on any other beetle of the same ilk. Until a few days ago, that is. Suddenly it seems that we are the subject of a tiny, black beetle plague. The little fellers crop up everywhere but most especially in the kitchen. Now, Africa teaches one to be tolerant of bugs and insects and spiders and the like, since they are ever present in that continent. But Andrea will not abide them and I have to admit that even my tiny friends in numbers such as these are less than welcome. I confess to not impeding Andrea’s drive to be rid of the little critters. And she’s good at it. With the aid of a magic dust called diatomaceous earth and a portable vacuum cleaner, she has dealt with the outbreak of tiny, mobile dots. The plague is banished. I am left with faint feelings of guilt at this treatment of my six-legged and microscopic friends. But there’s a limit and they crossed it. Word count: 268 |
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