Feeling massively ordinary today, so will train my self to the pinnacle of human excellence, I will sharpen myself to such a point that my own ego will burst.
Theres a horrid wind from AhFricca (can't say it quite as idiotically as Boris Johnston), what a plum sucking knobkierie he is. The wind is Nufsinar -half o'clock- which means it is from the south and has sand in it. The weather is actually horrible so I will inform you of this, as I am not an agent for the Gozo or Maltese Tourist authority, not yet anyway.
It's my birthday tomorrow and suddenly I am apprehensive, supposing age and infirmity preclude climbing, and other bodily functions? Never mind, just swallow a few vitamin Es, a few Es and wash it down with some of the below.
.
It's foggy, and reminds me of urban SouthYorkshire, or Hull, or Huddersfield, or Norwich, or Croydon, or anywhere dull. On the isle Comino (which I am looking at while I sip a very passable Rum) there was once a Mystic Jewish fellow called Abraham Abulafia. He invented some kind of numerical meditation thingy, and wrote two best selling books, this was in 1288 or so.
.
A. Abulafias books are now sadly sadly out of print, the first "Book of the Sign" is remarkable for its complete incomprehensibility while the second, "Imre Shefer", or Words of Beauty, is perhaps more notable in at least having a cute title. Mr Abuafia was also a Messiah among other things, and chose my neibouring island after a failed attempt to convert the Pope! Luckily for Abraham, the Pope died so I think they were a tadge scared of him, and he was exciled to Comino, where there is some great climbing. His books on numerical Kabbalah and breathing meditation came in very handy converting different countries climbing grades into tables which adorn various climbing books even till today. So now you know. Good training to you all.
