Somewhat in disbelief that I actually put myself in another room and sat down to do a few little posts. Different thoughts, just at random. Things interrupt me very easily. My mind can go which-way-and-that. A change of song or a thought crept up disguised as another thought. But then if I think too …

The old-man is a good-man and was once full of fire and might. The old-men lose the fire. It’s passed to the next. This feels like it was written by a cave-man, a bit brief and stumped.

What I’m trying to say is that there’s a gentle-man in the old-man now. A man that has learnt the hard way …

What could this be? An attempt at a post, no doubt. But what to write? I feel the last few years have been filled with so much. I could pick anything, anywhere - anyone - and write.

I could start with myself, in my backyard, an hour ago, throwing a tennis ball (purple, in colour) into the air as …