Thank you for replying to my E-mail. Yes, I would be delighted if you placed my last message on your web site - for reasons of vanity, and I have to confess - a vauge hope that Ken might one day see it. I heard that Ken had recently embraced modern technology and was attempting to E-mail Bono. If successful, it might encourage him to explore cyberspace . Or maybe not. At the age of 9, he broke mother's typewriter, whilst composing a sonnet to his cockney idol, Tommy Steel. He got ensnared in the ribbon, became covered in ink from head to foot, and vowed he would never use machines to communicate poetry ever again. We didn't take him seriously, as he was always making highly emotional declarations of this sort. Hearing near to nervous collapse following the combined malfunctioning of his mobile and fax, the accessing of a web site might prove too much for his cognitive capabilities. Knowing him, in a fit of I.T pique, he's probably buckled the space-bar on his keyboard. I know, Rich. I'm being spiteful. It's the years of hurt and rejection that make me say such things. Oh Ken, if you ever read this, will I ever hear the sprightly "click-click" of your cubans as you willingly approach me, to give the warm greeting - "Let's forget the lost years Billy-Boy, here, take a sip of Malibu from my leopard print hip-flask !" Can I but hope?

Well, onto other things! I have recently formed a Rambling Club in Blackpool (my home-town.It is a breakaway/splinter group from the official Rambling club, due to my disagreements over compass practice and the mis-use of map-references) to ease the many disappointments of my life, though I'm beginning to wonder if this has been the right move. Only two weeks ago, I was bitten by an ill-kempt farm-dog, and was then severely criticized for allowing someone along on a 10 mile walk (around the Knott-End and Stalmine brine Wells) wearing wellingtons. The walk had to be abandoned due to that person suffering, by the 4 1/2 mile mark, severe chafing of the legs, . The foolish woman is thinking of suing me for lost earnings. Alas, the burdens of leadership. I can empathize with Ken and the vacillating fortunes of Worthington Promotions. Talk about being "Up and down like a brides nightie!"