I’ve created a site index at the bottom of the page with links to each post. I will update this as I go, adding older posts etc (formatting pscyhopath)
I prefer this layout; only the latest post on the homepage, with an arrow in the corner to go back through older posts. 
(If you read my blog, I thank you dearly for your interest, loyalty (?) and patience. )
(This post will self-destruct soon.)

A collection of writings, poems and stories by the anonymous author ~  contact

Ah, we’re an ungrateful race! When I look at my hand upon the window sill and think what pleasure I’ve had in it, how it’s touched silk and pottery and hot walls, laid itself flat upon wet grass or sun-baked, let the Atlantic spurt through its fingers, snapped blue bells and daffodils, plucked ripe plums, never for a second since I was born ceased to tell me of hot and cold, damp or dryness, I’m amazed that I should use this wonderful composition of flesh and nerve to write the abuse of life. Yet that’s what we do. Come to think of it, literature is the record of our discontent.
T H E   E V E N I N G   P A R T Y Virgina Woolf