I think I live in a loony bin, or perhaps I should. Every day and night, for as long as I can remember, I have had a song in my head. Not the same song, thankfully, but some song or other. If I wake up during the night, there is a song running through my brain. The music will often invade my dreams as well. When I wake in the morning, the song is still there. Usually after I get up and turn on TV or the radio it will finally leave me. I am grateful for that. It makes me sometimes feel a bit loony.

Speaking of loony, The Evil Fred has stolen and eaten the ends off of Andy’s ear plugs. George Bofur, whilst rolling around on a dining room chair, rolled right off and onto the floor with an embarrassing thud. He seemed mortified. Neither would eat a dab of tuna I presented to them.  Both of them are banging around the place in chase. But why are they running? What are they running from?

I think I’m bound for the loony bin. Want to come along?