Behind, behind, behind

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I am. Having had a week off (spent in Scotland, and utterly wonderful, about which more later) I have now come back to earth with a big, fat bump. Just before we went away someone said to me, having just told me an alarming bit of news about one of the things with which I am involved: "I hope it won't spoil your holiday." "It won't," I said. I may be a bit short on time-management abilities, memory skills and a host of other things, but at putting things I don't want to think about firmly out of my mind for the week of my holiday I think I have few equals.

However, even I cannot fend off the thought of the Inland Revenue for ever (which wasn't by the way, the alarming thing: that turned out to be merely worrying), so I am now in the throes of finalising the business accounts. Every year I say firmly to myself that I will make sure every bit of paper is irretrievably filed, but every year something goes missing. Most years it has been a bank statement, but they're all there: this year I have managed to mislay entire files of household things I need bits of information from. Hey ho.

Still, not long to go, and then I will be able to catch up on emails (thank you very much to everyone who has: I'm not ignoring you: you're constantly in my thoughts but at the moment the Revenue is even more so) and everything else. And there's such a lot of everything else...

However, I have managed to read about a third of Moon Stallion as a bit of light relief from tax. Somehow I managed to miss this when it was on telly in the 70s. More about that later too, but I shall, I think, have quite a lot to say about it.

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