So yes, I'm fairly sure that worries over whether anyone will consider wasting ten minutes of their life, chewing through the gristle and wobbly bits of my weekly blog pie will pass. But emotions can be so cruel, can't they dear reader? No sooner have I fought so gallantly and so bravely to overcome worries of content, than I am suddenly stricken with angst over my unfathomable nemesis - punctuation. Punctuation for me has always been a complete mystery. I could, with a fair degree of confidence, place a full stop in more or less the right place in a sentence. Much beyond that, however, and I'm shooting in the dark. Certainly, semi-colon, colon and apostrophe territory is a barren wilderness indeed. The badlands, where cloaked and scathing individuals roam the tundra armed with nought but the sharpness of their minds, looking to catch the unwary.... in parenthesis.
Good punctuation, and indeed spelling for that matter, are of course genetic. There is a punctuation gene. It's been very well documented and it looks like an exclamation mark apparently. I don't have it, although parts of my rather minimalist family tree do. Other lesser known genes include the queuing gene, the tidying up gene and of course the cooking gene, but I digress. Beset with worry over content, spelling and punctuation, not to mention the techno-fear related to the setting up of the site in the first place, and it's a wonder I got as far as I did. It is for this precise reason that I intend to finish here and take stock. The fact that my feet also hurt and I have a blister coming from assembling too much flat pack furniture, is doubtless also a contributing factor.