Thanks Michael. A reminder there's so much more to be said, too.

I've been meaning to read Peter Washington's one - Madame Blavatsky's Baboon. Not very recent, but well reviewed when it came out.

I'm sure it wasn't arson, but I am reminded of a friend whose gran had a knitting stall in a covered mini market in Redruth and had a phone call kindly suggesting she took her stock home that evening 'as there was going to be a big fire just after midnight'.

A bullshit cento!

*Red climbs wall, spots builder smoking outside house. Builder spots Redmond. Waves.*

Builder: Hello!
Redmond: You're a prick!
Me: Oh shit jfc no! Sorry! God no! Don't say that! Sorry! He's not a prick. He's a nice man! Oh god, I'm so sorry!

Builder fortunately very understanding. Total cringe.

This is one of my all time favourite albums. Absolute gold. Up there with this recording of Machaut, imo: open.spotify.com/track/0S5VpE...

If so, mea culpa, and thank you!

I am always and only Tim, including on my birth certificate. Unfortunately, being attached to this has given people an easy way to piss me off my entire life.