I turned eight on holiday in Norway. We stayed in a wooden cabin a short walk from the forest and a large lake. It seemed like every lake in Norway had a rowboat on the shore. I struggled to push this boat out into the water. I would spend all day on the water. I made a fishing rod from a stick and a shoelace. Worms were nowhere to be found and the fish did not like blueberries which were everywhere. Twice when I was sat on the boat in the middle of the lake a noise made me look to the shore and I saw the same big black wolf. It drank from the water then looked up at me as I sat on my boat in my straw hat. It winked at me, a big wink I could see from far away and then turned and walked off. No one believed that a wolf had said hello to me. “Really Bruce, wolves just don’t say hello to strangers in a nice way and I’m not even sure wolves can wink.” said Mother. When we drove away from the cabin and the forest I saw a big truck parked by the track. It had a black carpet on the bonnet. I pressed my nose to the window. A tall bearded man stood by the truck tying the paws together. He was smiling when he looked up at me and winked.
It’s been an age since I’ve left any detritus on these pages. In the face of mySpace, then Facebook and now Twitter with a background of belated maturity, engagement, house purchase, proper job, this tired old blog has been left to fester. I do miss it though. Perhaps I can provide additions every now and then? But what to write and when? Busy at work, the kitchen is still far from complete, the sun is very much out and, oh yeah, I forgot, I don’t BLOG!!! Ha AH!! Almost got me there. Bloody social networking. Bollocks. That is all. Long Live Hunter S Thompson!!!!