Returning from my daily swim this morning - by the way, have I mentioned . . . alright, alright, no need to shout! - I came upstairs, switched on and thought for a moment the software provided by my new best friend Bill had not so much gone awry as gone completely bonkers! Either that, or those delicious Californian blondes who roller-skate to work at TypePad HQ wearing bikinis (well, a man can dream, can't he?) were playing a joke on me. You see, the opening page of my TypePad-thingie has a graph at the top which tells me how many hits per day I have received and usually it is in or around 300. This morning it was - 3,342! And it was only 8.15am!
Scrolling back - and it took ages - through the nightly tally I now see that it all began at 04.48 hours when I began receiving hits from www.google.com/imgres on one particular old post of mine from June last year entitled: A special treat for DM in recompense for commenting above the call of duty. In it I featured several paintings and sketches by Turner the artist who I know to be a favorite of my old e-pal 'Dearieme', aka, 'DM'. Anyway, for some reason that has gone viral and as I type this the hit score is now 3,794! Surely a dour, old Jock like 'DM' can't have that many friends!
What is irritating is that that particular post consists mostly of Turner's paintings with very few of my wise and perceptive words for which I am famed the length and breadth of this garret! I mean, if it was one of my political or philosophical treatises I could understand the attraction - but a damned dauber, well, words fail me . . .