They’re flagging a dead horse…

The Diary is tired of speech and script. The same two ways of communicating have had to serve since the abandonment of the caterwaul. And serve they have – the Diary’s abode would be a bare one indeed without the cash they have brought in.

But there comes a time in life when change is necessary, so the arrival of two flags and a booklet from an agency called Tugboat was greeted with a sweat of joy (the Diary has been experimenting with alternative forms of communication, but they don’t translate well into print).

So, if readers come upon the Diary, playing with its pole, please be tolerant – it’s all in the interests of experimentation.