Tonight, as the weasels ululate to the setting sun, and the few remaining feral hairstylists in the woods below return to their nests to roost, Maureen and I will don our bondage gear and oil the badger for the final time, before making our way up to the very rooftop of Quandary Towers.
Once there we will, in a ceremony that dates back to just after tea-time yesterday, lower the Standard of the Noble Order Of The Trouser Quandaries* for the very last time.
Yes, my little stapling machine, it is true that all good things must come to an end, and the same applies to those things that on rare occasion reach the heights of mediocrity such as this… er… whatever it is.
Yes, at long last it is time for I – Norbert Trouser-Quandary – to bid you a fond farewell and leave this blog for pastures new.
So… farewell then, siblings, and may whatever it is that you want to happen to you happen to you with whatever frequency of occurrence you desire, and may whatever you don't want to happen keep its distance from you for as long as you feel it necessary.
No, it's all right I just have something in my eye, that's all.
Run along now before it gets dark, the wild accordions will begin their nocturnal stalkings soon.
However, despair not my loyal reader (and your friend), for this blog will continue from now on in the… er… capable hands of our very own Grand Uncle Stagnant.
Such are the vagaries of the Blogger platform that the change from Norbert Trouser-Quandary to Grand Uncle Stagnant means that all my former posts now bear his name. But I’m sure that those of you who know both our very different styles will know – if you care - who wrote what, whenever you choose to peruse the archive.
So, then, this is goodbye from me Norbert Trouser-Quandary, and please give a warm welcome to your new hoist:
Grand Uncle Stagnant
*featuring a pair of trousers rampant on a golden field of weasels pursuant with the motto: In Trouserus Legium Putia).