It isn't going to be quite as prolific a year on this website as before.
The Swindon Literature Festival have stopped having big name poets that make it worth my while going there; the Portsmouth Festivities don't have anything to immediately grab my attention; it is starting to seem like more of a trek than a glimpse of glamour to go to London for a few Proms and, although I thought I might forego the Cheltenham Literature Festival this year because I'd go to the poetry conference in Manchester in the autumn, I just think, well, of course I'd love to, but do I have to.
And so Not Going Out is the new Staying In, or something like that.
What is there left to do, then.
In my booklet of 2006, Walking on Water, there was this light-hearted little tribute to two work colleagues. One of them has since moved on and bettered herself. The other one is now my new line manager. So, woe betide me.