Kevin Doesn't . . . worry about the sun's damaging rays, he just concentrates on his game.

Nothing much to say. The Well is still out at the latest market; I've not written anything in ages, although, at the workshop, I have managed to get some critting done (and aren't I happy with myself at being able to crit when I don't even have anything posted); I have an idea for a scene (or two) for the June challenge, but am unsure whether or not to post it incomplete; I'm currently reading Terry Pratchett's Reaper Man, and the other day, to my great joy, I noticed that WHS had a copy of The Scar in, so I've bought that and added it to the pile of books to be read.

Kevin Doesn't . . . know how to smile.

I moved house two weeks ago, and am now living with two others in a small two bedroom cottage in the Distant Past. Whilst I haven't completely finished unpacking (matters haven't been helped by the satellite television in the lounge, which sings to me whenever I have a quiet moment), I've settled in and so far things are good. The eternal quiet of the Distant Past isn't bothering me too much; it's just like being back in the Sticks, except that you're slightly less removed from civilisation here (I'm currently only four or so miles from Swin).

When I say I live with two others, this week it isn't strictly true. We're letting another one of the local needy sleep in our lounge, so there will be four of us living in very cramped conditions. I'm not sure of the wisdom of such a move, but if the others want to be charitable, who am I to argue?

Finally, for any who remember me mentioning the bowling a while back, an update. I truly suck at bowling. In fact, it might be safe to say that I am worse at bowling than I am at Karting. In our group of six I came fourth in the first game. In the second I came second to last out of the whole party (some 40-odd people). If ever the Monty Burns comparisons were appropriate, it is now.

Later . . .