But I don't see it here, which suggests I'm doing even worse than I'd thought.
Be that as it may, I do intend to be a better, more consistent blogger, a more disciplined editor and pen-for-hire and even to emerge back into the light of socializing beyond the bounds of Metro in the Glebe.
Er ... starting next week. In about 7 hours, Raven and I are off to la belle province for some much-needed R&R (much-needed by both of us; snapping at one another is becoming perilously close to a habit). With luck, I'll return, refreshed and revivified, and bearing 1 megapixel photos from Mont Royal.
So. A pointless "hello" to the new-comers, a "how are ya?" to the long-suffering, and a promise of better things to come. I'll get the hang of this interweb thing yet, no foolin'.
Coming up. Life, reviews of new work by John Irving, Margaret Atwood and N.K. Jemesin, a wrap-up on the latest adventures of Sarah Jane Smith and (if I can stomach re-watching the episode) my response to an unfortunate encounter with Bill Shatner's latest project. And probably politics, politics, politics.
But now ... to bed.
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