20/20 hindsight

As I'm in front of a screen, I've been doing my weekly thing of tidying up all the messy old mobile posts. It's a strange thing, you may have noticed, but my mobile always likes to capatalise pronouns- They, We, You. There always seems to be something vaguely theological about all that; like people who habitually throw in a He three times a sentence.

Yesterday's posts are an important study in pride, overconfidence and plain daftness, if you ask me. It's always asking for trouble when I get *too* full of myself, particularly when I can combine that with an absent-minded obsessiveness. It was destined to go wrong, and as you can see it did, thankfully only in a minor way.

But in a way, we all end up at Bletchley Station at least once in our lives.