Captain Butterfly's blog for yesterday - sobs incoherently - sanderling - catching, washing and EATING a mussel... NO!!!!
Was it Maurice?
If so, what a tragic end! And one that I assured my blog would not occur.
Is it all over?
The problem is that I can't tell one mussel from another and - oh, wait a minute, there is some kind of protest massing on the green outside our balcony. It seems to be a mob of mussels surging up from the beach, with placards. Oh dear - they are accusing me of Disrespect for Diversity (as I have failed to note how interestingly diverse mussels are) and are threatening me with the Thought Police. Gulp.
I am too old for the Re-Education Camps. And I haven't got enough brain cells left to be successfully re-educated anyway. Oh dear. This is a horror. They must all have been working away on their little waterproof computers when I put those foolish words on my blog.
The only consolation is that that looks very like Maurice at the head of the demo.
So my plotline can continue as planned, if I ever get back to the beach.
Maybe I could have a few words from the balcony. It is a bit of a Romeo and Juliet situation in a way.
Thick frost this morning, but our Gallant Leader Captain Butterfly still plans to get us up to London for the book launch, in spite of flakes of snow falling on rails and a 24 hour tube strike.