Tuesday, February 26, 2008


Yesterday's letter was from the lady in Manchester. She says we bought a book on Algerian Geraniums (as well as immigration papers) and haven’t paid her for it. £5,000. Some book!

Worse, she says we’ve joined a ‘Book Club’ and have to buy something about geraniums twice a year from now on . . . or . . . else!

Ming says not to worry. He’s got a job. We’ll pay.

(On an M.O.D. floor sweeper’s wage?)

"She can't report us for having forged papers. The police will ask her how she knows," says Ming.

(Trying to be reassuring.)

"Don't Martian criminals write anonymous letters?"

He looked surprised.

“There aren't any post boxes on Mars" he said "and stamps wouldn’t stick.”

I went and planted the lemon balm in the garden.

There was a light drizzle - and the shed's leaking.

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