I banished the Frustrated Imp earlier today with a bit of reverse psychology. Yes, instead of listening to his little impish voice saying, ‘Haha! You’re not going West or South of it…ooh, that’s a bit too far North…’ I told him frequently that my new goal was just get as close to West as possible, given the weird conditions. Which of course is what we have been trying to do all along, but it had been phrased differently. And that makes all the difference. Then, just as they did in South Pacific, I decided to ‘wash that imp right out of my hair’. Hairwash out here does nearly the same to the smileometer as a mars bar does – both are supremely delicious. A heap of singing and dancing banished our imp further and then the most beautiful and dramatic of sunsets, all fiery and red, made everything very rosy again.
So I am glad to report that although Ricardo is bemused by the weather today, and we’re not making quite the perfect course, the Imp has gone and we’ve got a bit of Zen running through the veins again. Very sedately and Zenly, of course – probably more gentle follollop than sprint, helped by a dose of Port and embalming my squealy back with Deep Heat. Magic.
Outey Toot Toot x
PS And we’re now on the West side of 74East – the imp didn’t like that either!