Yes I ran away over Easter and hid in the French Alps for three weeks. Mostly I was hiding from M and that wretched misjudgment I mentioned. I wanted to be in the clean Alps to make sure that one of her demons hadn't attached itself to me. That can happen with sex. And they are easier to see against the snow. I'm pleased to conclude: no sign of any. But I shan't do that again.
I got some scribbling done too. I have to show it the yob who teaches us Creative Writing. I'm going to take him some wine as a peace offering. Nothing fancy. Perhaps a Chateau Neuf Du pape. Something rustic anyway. Speaking of wine I filled the Citroen XM to overflowing to beat the vicious 46% tax. Well, the hydractive suspension is marvelous, doesn't matter how many bottles you load in. French thinking, see. Got stopped at the ferry port by a customs officer with a thunderous scowl and a five o clock shadow. Wanted to know how many. I told him I know my allowance and challenged him to count them. 'Don't tempt me,' he countered. 'Do your worst,' I said, 'I'll sit and read my novel.' Bluffer waved me through. Well, you've got to fight fire with fire.