Not nice in Nice.

on yours

When I can’t sleep, I write – so I should warn you that this morning has a theme of mourning.

I’m mourning the warmth of my bed, and a lot more besides.

Perhaps it is just the pernicious tumble of the autumn leaves that has me this way but death lies heavily on my mind.

It’s may be useful to know that if you are reading this; you may choose to look elsewhere – and maybe if you are new to the blog you are unaware that such an opportunity lies herein.

There are The Pages for a start.

Yes the blog has pages – this one here is just the front page  - there are 7 others to explore.

Then there are the photos – you could just look at them; they are very largely original content, taken under my own finger unless credited specifically.

And then there are The Archives, and the archives – capital A and small-case a.

Small case - accessible from the ‘a roll down list of previous bobs and bibs’ drop down menu on the left  - lead the unwary to the many ramblings that this blog offers.

Capital – accessible mainly from the ‘search this blog’ function in the top left  (key word, Archive) – will take you to content largely contained in a pile of boxes stored in a railway carriage in Scotland, or lost forever in submerged caves off of the coast of somewhere else.

But searching could be the death of you.

Curiosity kills the cat, or so they say.

Before I went to sleep I read two things – one was a chapter from a novel where the protagonists suffers to contend with the death of his Grandfather.

The other was the recently published (or possibly republished, as I feel I have read it before and forgotten the lessons) The Top Five Regrets of The Dying’.

The former was intended for entertainment the latter for confirmation; I wanted to be sure that I was on the right track.

At first I was happy to see that ‘I regret that I didn’t use Facebook’ had NOT made the top five, as I am not a subscriber.

But then ‘I regret not staying in contact with my friends’ was in there at number one.

And I think that that is what people use it for.

Which brings me to Tim.

Why?

Well Tim was there in the room when I first set up my account at Facebook – it was in ….. and there my memory fails….. but it must have been about October 2004.

That account didn’t last long.

Tim neither.

I mourn him.

And this morning is a day of mourning.

It’s not nice what happened in Nice.

previously held in the archives (largely) so therefore ab/98