Welcome

 WELCOME (I THINK?)

Posted by Virgil Twobyfour, though Keith pressed the buttons.

Well. Hello there. Or hullo, depending on where you are standing. I’ve been told (by Keith, who was shouting through the window at the time) that I ought to write a Welcome Message for something called a Blog Pot, which I assumed was a kind of earthenware casserole dish, or possibly a system for preserving marrows in the attic.

Anyway. He said I must write one, as people might be “dropping by.” I immediately laid the fire, got out my best china (the ones with the faintly accusatory sheep on them), and put the kettle on. The biscuits are out too - two types. One crunchy, one sort of tragic. Please help yourself if you’re real. If not, just imagine them vividly.

Now then. Welcome to whatever this is. Keith says it's a blog, which apparently means I can talk into the keyboard and people far away can hear me, like a séance but with worse manners. I’ve no idea where you are. Or who you are. But if you’ve arrived here, it probably means the universe has nudged you gently toward the potting bench for reasons of its own. Either that, or you searched “how to pickle beets during an eclipse” and took a wrong turn.

A little about me, although it changes depending on the season.

I’m Virgil Twobyfour. Retired from several things. Ex-something in the Ministry (details confidential, misremembered, or both). Now largely found in and around my potting shed, coaxing strange growths from the soil and occasionally muttering at birds. I write things down when they seem important, or when they won’t leave me alone.

This blog (Keith calls it Notes from the Potting Bench - it used to be The Wobbling Weathercock but that apparently "wasn't clickable") is where I’ve agreed to share my findings, feelings, forecasts, horoscopes, recipes, sightings, oddments, and any alarming developments in the behaviour of the hedgerow.

You’ll find:

• Almanackery of a rustic persuasion

• Reports of local incidents (some factual, some theoretical)

• Messages from beyond (beyond where, you ask? Precisely)

• Tips for spiritual wellness and marrow care

• Extracts from my wartime notes, mostly dry and slightly scorched

• Possibly a photograph of my elbow

I’m told I shouldn’t mention the business with the goat and the ley line again, so I shan’t. Not yet. But it’s in the archives, if you know how to whistle backwards.

This is not the future I was promised in the brochures - no silver jumpsuits, no helpful robots, no decent battenberg - but here we are. You're very welcome all the same. If I knew how to reply to comments I would. Keith says there's a button but I don't trust it. Too blue.

Right, I’ll let you go. Do wander about. Mind the uneven paving around the "horoscopes" and don’t open the cupboard marked RECIPES (UNTESTED) unless you’ve got stout nerves and a wet cloth to hand.

Warmest regards,
in every sense of the word,
Virgil T.
(Potting Shed / Formerly Various Locations / Currently Tea)

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P.S. If you do leave a comment, please include your star sign, favourite weather, and whether or not your chimney's been making odd noises. I’m keeping track. For reasons.