Well, nearly silence.
I am not here. This one’s on a timer. If all has gone well I am now on a plane heading for Copenhagen.
From now until about 8 pm next Friday, I am very unlikely to respond to anything at all. Comments, maybe. New blog posts, perhaps, although they will most likely be joint efforts with Broken Girl if they appear at all. She will have direct access to this blog by the simple expedient of nudging me out of the way, or distracting me with bacon and/or cakes.
DMs on Twitter, really, don’t bother. We don’t want gooseberries or third wheels popping in at inopportune moments, or indeed at all. You are not likely to get a friendly response and if it’s a seriously inopportune moment you might get a very nasty one. Don’t make us slightly miffed. You won’t like us when we’re slightly miffed.
I am determined there will be some photos this time. She will veto them but it’s a whole week so I’m sure I’ll get a few through. I will use my biggest, saddest, wettest puppy-dog eyes. Maybe the trembly lip too, as a last resort. I’m sure I can get at least one through, even if it’s only a picture of me being bitten by a hedgehog. Yes, that is quite likely to happen. Oh… don’t ask. It’s the sort of thing that happens all the time.
Can I stay silent on the blog for a week? It’s quite a challenge but I’ve met harder ones. Last time we met was in a hotel with an NHS health-advice conference and I was restrained, gentlemanly and well behaved throughout. Even when some of the delegates were outside smoking. When there’s enough at stake I can meet any challenge.
There might be a post this week, there might not. I might not even think about the blog or Twitter or Farcebok or even the internet. Emails are unlikely to be answered because I won’t have easy access to email where I am. I’ll only have the little computers with me and they don’t have email set up on them. I could log in to the Google mail accounts but probably won’t.
I’ll be home next Friday night and will probably act as if nothing happened at all, to your eternal frustration.
Hey, it’s only our second date. We might get as far as holding hands this time 😉