W H Auden described his face, in later years, as looking like “a wedding cake left out in the rain” (“If that's his face, what must his scrotum look like?”, David Hockney mused, after his first meeting with the poet). Thoughts like these pass through my mind whenever I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror. Inside my head I’m still a young man, though my raddled features tell a rather different story.
The way we live today: upmarket groceries being delivered to a house in Hotham...
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