Tuesday, July 18, 2006
634-5789 What's my number?
You gotta laugh. The house I live in doesn't even have a number - well someone from the town hall came round to allocate them a few years ago, but we've never had any official confirmation, so we remain, effectively, numberless - which, actually, might be a good thing, lest we end up with more than one like these houses.
This is typical here. After all, it is impossible to distinguish the fact from the fiction in much of the island's history, so why should the house numbering system be any different? At least it creates quaint things to look at!
(With apologies to the late Wilson Pickett for borrowing the lyrics for the headline, but I grew up listening to soul music.)
This is typical here. After all, it is impossible to distinguish the fact from the fiction in much of the island's history, so why should the house numbering system be any different? At least it creates quaint things to look at!
(With apologies to the late Wilson Pickett for borrowing the lyrics for the headline, but I grew up listening to soul music.)
