Tuesday 10th June

You may well wonder how on earth I find something to write about every day, and I must admit especially when in France it becomes increasingly difficult.  Days go by, full of sunshine, good food and contentment and the blog passes by unwritten.  And like everything, once a rule is broken, it becomes far easier to break the next time.  This blog which for about three years I never missed a day suddenly seems less important, the necessity of completing it and coming up withsomething new fades.  And my friends once that Rubicon had been crossed, why missing another day here or there is easy-peasy.

What I usually do on the way to work as well as reading a few pages of Anthony Trollope is, somewhere in the back of my mind, a search for the subject of the day.  Once I have this, writing something is easy.  Almost the same incidentally with the book, once I have the title fixed in my mind I can write stuff.  But then some days no subject will come and I have to rapidly search BBC News on-line or City AM, or even the Metro for a subject.

Occasionally even this defeats me and I sit in front of the computer and my mind goes blank, so I end up writing this sort of blog.  I therefore beg your pardon for wasting your time on a piece of writing which contains no gems of enlightenment, no wit, no political intrigue and no humour even.  Possibly the greatest sin.