As promised, a suitable green background. Leafy green and fresh, just like the world outside. I was enjoying it this morning on my run. The lime blossom is just coming out, and filling the air with one of my favourite smells. There were two enormous lime trees on our Primary School playing field, and the scent takes me straight back to childhood.
I was thinking happy thoughts as I ran, when I was suddenly interrupted by a bloke on a bike coming the other way, who shouted 'Nice tatts!' Nice what? I don't have any tattoos, and I'm pretty sure I didn't mishear. How very strange, I thought. Maybe there was a heavily tattooed person running along behind me? It's been a long time since I wast last oiked, I didn't quite know how to respond.
I suppose I thought the custom had more or less died out. When I was 20 I went to Rome with a blonde friend and we were harrassed day and night by importunate Italian males. When I returned to the city some 28 or so years later with my husband, I was please to note the huge improvement in manners of the young local men. I mentioned this to my friend when I got home. She told me she'd noticed a similar improvement in males across the board. The behaviour of labourers and construction workers in particular had been steadily improving from her late 20s, then exponentially after the age of 35. We agreed that we now felt entirely safe to walk past building sites without any fears of unwelcome shouts and whistles. The whole 'considerate constructors' drive has been very effective.
About this blog
This is a window into the weird world of Anglicanism, as experienced on a Cathedral Close. Has anything much happened since Trollope's Barchester Chronicles? You will still see the 'canon in residence' hurrying across to choral Evensong, robes flapping, as the late bell chimes. But look carefully and you will notice he is checking the football score on his iPhone as he runs. This is also a writer's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the novelist's life. And it's a fighter's blog. It charts the agony and ecstasy of the judo mat. Well, the agony, anyway.