There are not really explosive kegs between my legs

...just in case you were wondering. I mean, I haven't posted for over a week, and for all you know I might have blown myself up, with those dangerous kegs nestled down there.

Did you know that I live between the M5 motorway and the Malvern Hills? Look out one side of the house and you see the snaking panorama of those hills. The other, and it's the motorway. I consider this of significance. The M5 motorway is the main arterial road that takes you from Cornwall to Birmingham (that is to say, from heaven to hell). The Malvern Hills are like the last ramparts between the East and the West (or England and Wales, if you're looking at an old map). They inspired Elgar to write all that music. You look at them and you just know there is some kind of energy inside them. People who live on them... believe me, there are some strange people up there (especially in West Malvern). There's a theory that the hills inspire creativity (see Elgar), but if you get too close, you get madness.

Just East of them there used to be Powick Hospital, which for years was called Worcester Pauper Lunatic Asylum. My mum worked there when she was young and, going by the stories she's told me, it was exactly what you imagine (eg: escaped madmen roaming the countryside). Was it such a good idea to put them all so close to those hills? Maybe not. Then again, perhaps all those crazies who live on the hills are just the escapees they never found?

I live at just a nice distance from them hills, ta very much. The M5 motorway, I dunno what that inspires. It's nice to see though, all those stressed commuters stuck in that time/space warp while I'm chilling in my back garden with a beer and a book.