The laal lasses are away visiting their mother, so I’ve been trying to sort out the detritus that seems to have accumulated in the house over the years. Books I’ve bought in charity shops because I thought I ought to read, exercise equipment that has hardly been used, piles of drawings that have been stockpiled for years, that sort of thing. It’s not like I don’t read or exercise, I do a lot of both, but I’m probably never going to read Lord Liverpool’s “Knights of Bushido” or use those ankle weights to run round the block. I’m going to stick to my detective stories and the occasional historical war saga, and kettlebells work fine for exercise, no need for all that running nonsense.
But amongst the pile of drawings, I did find this piece of silliness I did years ago and am quite proud of. It’s called “Where’s Willy?”