Lean to Launceston

Collaborations. Conspirations. Serendiputous culminations of inevitable eventuations. I'm short of breath but not for long. There's no time for hyperventilation now. A new timetable has sprung with an offer come, several years late but bang on time, or even in the nick of time; enough notches hatch good grip to grasp & swing... Three sheets as fey gifts to exhalations from all directions. Opportunity raps, barely audible, upon flimsy flyscreen doors at the jaws of great gaols & without a keen ear or curry to meet & greet may, indignant, turn a heel. Signal fires lit, furnace stoked - the implications of ignoring a call to arms surely folly. ( yet another disregard of obligations from current web-hosts again leaves me fuming in the absence of any consistency in hosting 'service' )