Give me a break!

This looks pretty much like my new lateral epicondylitis support. I may be the only person in the history of everything to get tennis elbow while removing staples from documents. To be fair, I was under huge time pressure, and the documents in question were thick and old and required much yanking, but seriously? Tennis elbow?

Frozen in a train station

I fear that this would mostly provoke irritation amongst Londoners, many of whom are already irritated to bursting point, if my interactions with commuters this week have been any indicator.

But I, for one, would love it.

Support the Public Lending Right

If you're in the UK, please consider signing this e-petition about funding for the Public Lending Right.

Public Lending Right (PLR) is the right for authors to receive payment under PLR legislation for the loans of their books by public libraries. Payments are made annually to registered applicants (including the poet) on the basis of loans data collected from a sample of public libraries in the UK.

A reduction in PLR funding will adversely affect the earnings of thousands of UK authors and illustrators. Many are self-employed, and in an industry as unpredictable as publishing, the annual PLR payment is a highly valued and reliable contribution to earnings.Maintenance of decent funding for the PLR is surely in the interests of all authors!

You may have already seen this. But will Gordon?

http://petitions.pm.gov.uk/plr-funding/

Our local park is like a club that accepts as members only those who have small children, or who are teenagers. There is the occasional older couple walking their dog, or some just-out-of-their-teens lovers lolling on the grass, but usually it's just a mess of prams, tricycles and music blaring from mobile phones.

And mud. This afternoon, just before the park closed for the dark hours, a tiny boy got an evil look on his face and made a mad dash for the only puddle in the park, muttering, 'Mud'. As his father leaped to halt his progress, the slightly older brother, standing with his bike, nodded and said, 'Mud', with a rueful smile. I guess his mudding days are over.

Overheard

(ohmygoodness the tubes and trains have been SO crowded this week)

I'd still love you if you were grotesquely ugly, it's just that I'd be loving you through another woman's body.

If you can't fix it, stop breaking it