‘Bout time, said the promoted wonder-kid.

Meanwhile, we ate ate sardines out of a can and washed ‘‘em down with an almost sweet NeufDorf white Chenin Blanc.

More importantly, decide to work out how to infiltrate the dens of the mad and bad of the world and steer them to brighter things.

Then, we’ll speak to Chuck Norris.

An apology.

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Sorely tempted to commit at least five random acts of tender kindness, the artist seeks a title.

Whether this would be an honorary title such as Sir, Duchess or Knight, or, the words which will be bandied about to describe their next best seller, we still must discover.

We feel that chicken would be good for supper. For them, not for us.

We want a cashew-dominated dish.

Turning right, then two left turns, finds us seated at a pavement cafe.

I’d like a first class ticket on a broom to somewhere.

It’s not only the witches who are regulated, advisors are cautioned not to give advice.

A wild ride is hard to find while we are protected from it.

A pot of paint does not foretell a masterpiece.

A cucumber does not promise a sandwich.

I wish to predict and paint at the same time.

A big task worth starting.

They disappeared beyond the tree cluster near the top of the hill.

The climb had been long and filled with dazzling conversation, breathless as they reached a thousand metres above sea level, most entertaining at two thousand.

They all looked forward to water boiling at a lower temperature, and to those cooler nights.

One writer, a vagabond and a bond trader…and two librarians.

A sort of family. Certainly a group.

If they had not known each other for long, they were getting to know a lot about each other now.