Vanity Fair

It felt like that this morning as I tried again to get a fishing self-portrait. This isn't the one I'll send them. They wanted one holding the rod over my shoulder, something I never do. I have one or two that look fine but the conditions again weren't quite right - too nice a day with strong sunshine that highlighted the shady parts of the garden more than I wanted. So I'm waiting until Gill gets home before packing up the kit. I hate self-portraits. Where are the clouds when I need them?

Blogged on the office changes I blipped on a couple of days ago. Blipping/blogging/tweeting - whodathoughit?