Sorry, if sorry is called for. It has been a while. The office has been all consuming, slowly chewing me and time for several weeks, and consequently sububman's opportunities to type (some would say stereo-type) a few words have been few and far.
Yet suddenly the mercury rises and the pigeons engage in unspeakable ribaldry on the guttering of the double-fronted semi opposite; the grocery delivery van brings higher quotas of airmiled fruits to the neighbours; the milkman exchanges his wolf family QVC fleece for a light-weave "tennis shirt" that exposes his veal calf arms. Yes, spring arrives in the suburbs.
And here's my first piece of springish handiwork - yes, it's crazy paving suburbman-style (my first ever) with a the stylish embellishment of fragments of willow pattern plate shards. Let it not be said that this suburbamn is lacking in finesse - oh no, here is a man whose aesthetic decisions are worthy of the most discerning of mid-week makeover shows.
