Unsticking upside-down constitutions

George told me a friend of his in Japan was taking lessons in walking upside down on giant teacups. I believe George believes this is true and so I believe it must be too. Watching anyone doing something upside down is rather unappealing to me but, then, bats do it all the time. I suppose it all comes down to one's constitution.

Which is why this blog has arrived three days later than it should, Bessy having taken it into her head that she wanted to visit a caravan on Saturday. Margaret spent most of the weekend trying to lasso the donkey so that we might ride the cart. Unfortunately, due to the intervening time and the sight of Margaret running about the field, Bessy's inner essentials turned rather - well - upside down. So Bessy has forgotten about the caravan and we're all rested.

With regard to hanging upside down, Felix found a blob of chewing gum on the underside of his bench, which caused him some mild consternation. The gum was his, he said, but he was disappointed that nobody else had noticed. I said I'd mention it in the blog and he could see if anyone came to the bench tomorrow. But then he went all shy and said he didn't want anyone to see it and that as a dentist I should know better than to expose someone. So I promised I wouldn't say where the bench is.

But all this brings me back to the question of identity that I meant to pose at the start, but didn't. I think that's what links George's friend with the teacups, Bessy's lack of constitutional agreement, and Felix's piece of gum. It's all about defining who they are. And, by me discussing them, who I am. Which is all very wonderful in some way I haven't quite understood.