The call of life and it's adherent duties leaves me with limited time to blog up.
Apparently, it's all about priorities, and context, where I must go to work, feed my family and interact with humans in the arguably "real" world.
There is also The Missus's rather good point that she would prefer me not to become a pasty blue wraith whose only colour comes from basking in the ethereal glow of the VDU.
In order to prevent me becoming like one of those transparent fish that lives in caves (a cruel irony of nature because they have no eyes and so can't see all the cool gubbins pulsating away under their skin there), we're going on a city break for a few days.
We've done some pretty decent cities in the past, from Reykjavik to Amsterdam, Prague to Paris, in the days when we actually had some of that stuff called unspent cash you get from being a dual income couple with no dependants.
Now, however, we must fool the bank and credit company into funding any such trip, which means we must be a little less ambitious, and stay closer to home.
There is a city on the the South East coast of England which we're going to nip to on the train. It's called London-On-Thames I believe, and has some decent shops and cafes and things, so we thought it would be worth a trip.
Also, a ukulele shop.
I'm obviously not going all the way to a vague town with a big stream just to go to a ukulele shop, because that would just be silly.
There's also a bookshop.
So, I'm off for a bit, and thought I'd post a quickie for the record, and I will shift my rear end out of neutral when I return and get back to reading stroke commenting stroke stroking on all your blogs.
You have been warned.
In the meantime, I shall wish you all good health by raising a glass of toxic liquid in salutation to you:
That was the last drop of pure, unadulterated wonderfulness from a bottle of Talisker Distiller's choice.
You see, that's how much I like you.
My last glass, and I wanted to share it with you.