In my inbox today:
- a traveller’s tale from a London friend who went to Siberia on a trip to meet Russian shamans, which included a visit to the ‘Ministry of Extreme Situations’ (not a Pythonism but a sort of real life International Rescue without the Thunderbirds’This organisation trains men (and one woman) to
deal with any kind of disaster including earthquakes, fires and mountaineering
and diving accidents. All have to be proficient in every kind of rescue before
specialising, and they welcome people from all over the world as trainees.
- an invitation to join a forum for people with sleep disorders (of which I have a very mild one), the webmaster of which has the surprising address of firstname.lastname@example.org
Back at Romantic Fiction 2, an ignored and unrecorded song from about four years ago, We Belong Together, is nudging and elbowing to get itself onto the CD at the expense of another one, about which I’ve had reservations. It wouldn’t take much recording, so I’m tempted. Hmmmm. I’ve been thinking about it for 24 hours now. Except when snoring.