A new home for my diary. No. A house, not yet a home. I fear I may find myself repeating all the apologies that I recently received during a fleeting visit chez Fripp, as he welcomed me to his fine, recently purchased, house, where he felt the need to apologize for a decor that is not yet always his own. This website is not yet my own. A prefabicated shed, which, does, however, serve the purpose and keeps off the rain. Welcome, one and all.
And many thanks to my new landlord. Acts of heroism. It might be churlish to point out that, after my many months spent quelling the topic of "Who is the Vicar", a helpful soul has invented a page called "Who is the Vicar". Perhaps, once I have bought new curtains and furniture, this room may be renamed. As a recent "evictee", grateful for any shelter, it would seem a little early to be choosy about my surroundings.
In the meantime, the soul of the departed Beaton the Bunnie receives my commendation. Along with all those who add "who cares?".
I am the Vicar.
And on the morrow, when I return from my Easter Break refreshed and filled with the powers of the resurrection, I shall be happy to turn to my mind the recent paradigm shift at DGM.
Yo.
