I've been having kind of a crappy day, and a kind of stressful week, and I was going to write a post about being crappy and stressed. However a lot of you seem to be having a crappy stressful time too, so I thought instead I'd send you an extract of a poem my not-god-god-mother (I'm not baptised - well, probably not baptised, but that's another story - and not religious, but it's that kind of relationship) wrote my for my birthday, which I particularly like at the moment.

Then life, that thing we never catch

Illusive like forgotten dreams

& sleep, a ledge at which we snatch

& fall and flail with primal screams

Will carry us, we have no choice

It's ticking now, we're in this time

& it's only this small tiny voice

That lifts us as we start to climb

And all the crocodiles will say

If you ask with inhibition

Is it not the most perfect day

For tea and cakes and erudition?