The Birth of the Cool

Apologies to those who have been waiting for an update on the Square Bashing game. The British have had a turn and got some reinforcements into their line, not least because I played a bit fast and loose with the rules. I shall pick up the narrative again shortly, I hope. In the meantime there has been a certain amount of stuff going on here to distract me, as opposed of course to the amount of going out and being distracted, which has been none whatsoever. However, reopening of the sorts of places that I like to go is at least on the horizon, and therefore I have been giving some thought to what I shall be wearing when the day comes. As a noted man-about-town in these parts I am aware that all eyes will be on me for guidance as to how the hygiene-conscious dandy will best equip himself for the world post lockdown. The answer, dear readers, is this:

The new normal

I wish to offer a hat-tip (a literal hat-tip as you can see) to Peter for his advice. In one of the infrequent round-robin emails that have passed between the wargamers of the lower Wharfe valley to check whether anyone has fallen off his perch I mentioned that I intended to rock the bandana. Upon reading this, he sagely suggested that I should not forget the hat.

You can tell that horse hasn't been able to get its hair cut for a while

In the same exchange he passed on the welcome news that one of his horses had foaled. When I mentioned this in conversation to a friend (with nothing whatever happening in one's life, any subject, however irrelevant, is likely to be brought up in order to keep the conversation going) she asked a question that was obvious, but which I had unaccountably overlooked. Was this the same horse that he had been riding when he fell off and hurt his leg? I shall report back.