I have a cold. My nose is a leaky tap that refuses to be turned off. All I want is some hot tea.

But hot tea is one of the commodities that I will have to live without -- hot tea and heating and everything that is powered on electricity.

All I have is a lavender scented candle and three hours of battery life on my laptop. The power to the little house in Brunswick has been shut off. Some git at the power company thinks our name does not exist on their list. Some other git’s name is on their list and that git has not been paying his bill. So by some strange logic, we do not have power and I’m shivering in the cold comforted by a lonely candle.

Nevertheless, it was fun for a while. After dinner (a romantic meal by the candle light courtesy of the Colonel), I got out my guitar and sang a little ditty with my Loopy Flatmate entitled “O Brunswick, Why Art Thou So Shit”.

It was very catchy.