Beaker People



Well, it has been an interesting day. A splendid NHS physiotherapist advised me to walk a few more steps each day and it did not rain much after 4am. Not that I was even awake then, but it does seem appropriate to comment on the event. How often, after all, does one get to have a take on the British weather.
The nice therapist asked what I did. Retired or employed perhaps. Well there is no easy answer to that question. After passing the official retirement age questions such as this are often asked alongside those questions designed to expose dementia. I am guessing that the wrinkles give it all away. Or, perhaps it is the stench of daytime adverts flogging funeral plans. Seemingly my offspring might be faced with an unaffordable bill of between £3,900 and £6,900 to lower me into the ground. God help them is all I can say since I, of course, will be out of the equation.
On the plus side, the writing of the new book is doing well. I have now got as far as the Beaker People.
All good then.
Tomorrow beckons 2,000 words on the Battle of Mons Graupius. I only hope that those pesky Picts win this time around.

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