It's been only a day without twitter and oh I am bereft. I keep seeing amazing things (Hazard tape has made a duck decoy of the scaffolding outside chutneys; I nearly get caught, a workman snickers.) pulling out my phone and then sighing and putting it away again. Were I still on the amazing free text bundle of glory which has financially supported my twitter habit (by no means extreme, but significant) I might have bullheadedly continued, even though no soft chimes of observation or irritation will henceforce punctuate my day (if you need a footnote, Twitter has ceased sending text updates to mobile phones in the UK as of today) but now each text is costing me coin it seems absurd to keep chucking them into a black pool that won't answer back. But annoyingly (A pigeon lands heavily on an spiky TV arial; from its fat pigeon arse a single feather floats down white against a blue sky.) I probably will go back it, even though it'll be something to visit now, rather than something which will scatter my day with little shiny blog-sequins, each observation, thought or story drilled down to its basics.
Alas poor Twitter, and, Americans, for the first time ever -- I'm jealous of your mobile phone service.