Real Life Gets In The Way.

Today I would have liked to post the next thrilling installment of the gripping Airship over the Pole but I haven't the time to finish typing the next chapter up.

I would have liked to post a report of the Tour de France's prologue time-trial but I haven't time to watch it (I think the boy Wiggins is in second place.)

All I have time to do is sit in a cloak room (there are no cloaks) wearing surreally painful shoes, playing 'finger-'tache':

...and dreaming of big bass banjos:

What passes for normal service round here will be resumed tomorrow.