The clues are building. As you can see from the recent portrait I am, truly, short sighted. The painter thoughtfully capturing that special moment of me trying to find last weeks Premier League Results in The International Herald Tribune, that great bastion of journalism that carries the fight against ignorance not only onto Airplanes but into Dustbins.
I had been laid up due to a back back, but thanks to a referral by dear, dear Agness Deyn, (I fear I shall always confuse her with Angus Deayton) I have luckily been able to see the local Cranial Rectal Therapist who, for a mere week's grocery shop worth of folded green has discovered and begun to cure the problem. I, though only briefly visiting Primrose Hill from our castle in the cloud, like so many local denizens, had my head so far up my ass that I had put a couple of vertebrae out of joint.
After a little prodding and moaning and manipulating the 'rapist managed to relieve me of my hard un-earned and swiftly extracted my commitment to make this essential treatment a never to be missed monthly stop on my journey toward Holistic and Physical Alignment.
But, fair's fair, my back is improved and the world smells sweeter than ever.