As I write our house vibrates to a cacophony of sound. I of course have radio 4 on. A perfectly acceptable background noise, an intelligent sort of sound that sooths and cools the furrowed brow. (Or is it troubled?) From the bathroom there comes the idiot ramblings of some youthful, intellectually challenged and no doubt spotty DJ, playing rubbish music, which is being nicely distorted on the fledglings small and very portable radio. The one that if it is not irritating me from the bathroom, has been left strategically placed beneath a pile of dirty clothing in the middle of his bedroom, so that I can step on it when I go in to say good night to him. From the spare room, that now does duty as the TV room our daughter is watching and listening to something on the tele. She is obviously going deaf. It is very loud. I can barely hear the Archers. From downstairs I can hear the low rumblings of the washing machine. Mrs BW has left the utility room door open again!
I turn for comfort to my e-mails. Amazon has sent me one. It tells me that I can pre-order the next and (thank f**k for it) the last Harry Potter book. I decide to go and have a quiet lie down. I go into the bedroom, shut the door, turn off the light and lie on the bed. The room is bathed in the unsubtle glow from our next-door neighbours security light. Somewhere in the distance I hear the sound of hooves racing across the grassy steppes. Help me. Please…………………………….