You may not have read it, but hidden amongst the post prior to the Faithless gig was the fact that I had, at the time of writing, misplaced my camera.
I was beginning to get a bit worried, especially as the only place it MUST be was my Gran’s and both Louise and I were convinced that I decided not to bother taking my camera in with me.
So, suffice to say that I was most relieved when my darling, gorgeous, wife phoned me to tell me she had found the camera. It was in the car all along. I was SURE I’d checked.
Phew.
WARNING: Any comments from any of you women (you know who you are!) about how “men can’t find anything” will be met with the full wrath and fury that is my reasoned argument on the topic. Namely that, as us men are ‘hunters’ we can spot a kestrel flying three fields away whilst we zip along the motorway at 85 70, and Louise can’t as she is a ‘gatherer’ and more attuned to finding things in the immediate vicinity. Like my camera. In the car. Where I’d already looked. And yes I COULD hunt and kill my own food. After all, it can’t be that hard to chase down a pizza, right?
Oh shut up.