Death of a Book Case.

When I first moved to this part of town in 2009 my very dubious landlord kitted out the flat. Cheap junk which just about summed him up. I had told him of my love for books. What I ended up with was a flimsy wobbly book case.

A move later to the flat I now own the book case came too. Then after having a pint more than was perhaps wise I lost my balance and crashed into it. The book case is dead and there are books everywhere!

Despite this calamity you find on a Sunday morning tired but good. 

Things are afoot. A plan is in place. In a couple of weeks I must do the presentation of my life and shine. An interview is looming. And I'm good at interviews. But that can wait.

Today though is more sedate. Opera plays, belly pork is in the oven and a quiet day is underway. 

Happy Sunday all.

I Heard a Voice.