Greetings from sunny Thornbury, home of the Thornbury markets, Thornbury station, Thornbury newsagency, Thornbury Thornbury, and - as of yestermorn - Thornbury me. There's been a certain lack of blogliness in my life these past couple of days, which illustrates the following principle, namely, That Time Spent Foxtrotting Around the Internet Is In Inverse Proportion to Time Spent Adventuring on the High Seas of Real Life.* Which reminds me, no time to regale the world with tales of Adventure on the High Seas of Real Life just now. Boxes to unpack, Melburneans to meet, dust to expel from my respiratory tract, et cetera. However, I HEREWITH SOLEMNLY PROMISE that a guided tour of Thornbury Heights is just around the corner. V. soon. Meanwhile, I love youse all. More or less equally. Sort of. There's a lot of love, anyway. You know who you are.
* This site takes no responsibility for those who meet with accident or misadventure of a maritime or vulpine nature while foxtrotting on the high seas.
4 comments:
What times we live in - in the good ol' days neighbourly introductions involved a cuppa tea or a bagga sugar. Love to you too (and, equally, from my friend). Look forward to hearing more adventures of Lexicon In Thornbury.
Thanks, friend. Dunno if my neighbours do tea. Some of them seem to drive taxis, though. Might be worth making friends with them and beginning my career as a passenger.
Welcome to Foxtrot Flats!
Ha! Nice. I should say here that even if someone threw a gramophone and a feather boa and a pair of dancing shoes at me, I still wouldn't know how to foxtrot. Obviously this is something that I ought to rectify. This is Melbourne, after all.
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