In Brighton

[steepholm]

Probably Lacanian cultural criticism is not the most sensible thing to read on the train to one's GRS operation. More than once I was tempted to declare in a Crocodile Dundee voice, "That's not castration anxiety! This is castration anxiety!" And so it is, though not in the Freudian sense - just in my fear of anaesthetic, dislike of pain and general squeamishness. Anyway, I'm now in my room, with a seaview and the mewing of baby kestrels from the nest box nearby.

Posts over the next few days may be disrupted...