Hi- Ho, Hi-Ho,

or to give it it's proper title, Heigh Ho,

it was off to work I go,

it had been raining over night, leaving a few puddles,

off of the number 54 bus by This 'N' That,

in the window, three glasses with a very small measure, or three very tall candlesticks? at the shop a key to the front door was giving trouble, 

so a bus to the locksmiths at the corner to Beckenham Junction station for myself,

key cut a walk over the road to the bus stop by the green,

off of the bus by the florists and over the road to the shop to help out there, at close of play back home,

the rhododendrons in the garden of Foxgrove Lodge looking nice, spring must be here!

a grey evening, more rain on the way I am guessing,

Diana was already at home, for this evening a read and a sherry, out with Jorge Luis Borge for one of his short stories ‘The Garden of Forking Paths’, briefly a Chinese agent or spy named Yu Tsun narrates the story, which is supposed to be his confession written as he awaits execution for spying for the Germans during the First World War, but how can he send the information that he has whilst prisoner?

next a real treat, fish and chips,

eyes down and tuck in, after which as there was not a Endeavour showing this evening it was a double helping of A Touch of Frost on ITVX, after which we were off to bed.