So there I was, guitar practice done and dusted, and all set for a wee wander in the outside world when the call came. The call of the balcony.

It was a glorious afternoon, the sun was shining and so there was only one thing for it. The balcony, a few buttered cream crackers, a large glass of the good stuff and a bit of Gregory Porter on the sounds. Sorted.

Elsewhere the Super League debacle continues to hog the sporting headlines. An interesting point was the swift and strong reaction of UEFA, the governing body of European football, against the proposal, which was in stark contrast to a recent decision they made with regard to a case concerning racist abuse. Seems that money matters more to UEFA than human decency. Quelle surprise.

Out in Pandemicland I remain completely confident that I will receive a vaccine at least a few days before The Grim Reaper calls. Its on the way, I just know it is.

In the meantime, the wine shelves need restocking.

The absolute essentials must be taken care of, chat soon.