I love you Bluestockingers.
Lacking proper motivation of any kind, have been lolling on sofa for a while, maybe almost 2 hours, reading and enjoying the conversations.
I'm a bit of a gloomy sloth today. Not for any special reason. I suppose Christmas-and-after was extremely busy, and consequently rather hard work even though I didn't have to do all the cooking or even much at all.
Completely inspired by the boiled beetle! What can I say? I love you, Boily.
A sad and lonely time of year with many bitter thoughts hanging around for some of us and I'm thinking about Swashy. You are also absolutely amazing, dear Swash. Your descriptions of wrestling with the plumbing and walking along by the sea are so vivid and evocative. And although we say we don't know each other, we each have a particular way of writing and expressing ourselves which like it or not, reveals our character.
Admittedly when I first appeared as sloth I did try to write like a sloth, but it soon wore off. We've had poetry, songs, whole theatre pieces from Boily, eulogies, paeans, joys and terrors and sickness and recovery, incredible knitting and transcribing from Myrtle, AI images from many, all entertaining. Marie always provides philosophy with a gentle streak of humour. And you can often tell who's writing the comment before you look at the name of the commenter (I do go backwards sometimes).
Feeling a little bit more balanced now I have written that down.
I would love to mention everybody by name and probably will later, if I can distil my thoughts. You are all brilliant.