Oh how the world attacks us and lays us low! Lucky I am that I am an artist and can express these terrors in artworks that sell for fortunes! This worry, that I will be hot, bothered, decide to cool my seething brow with an ice cream, only to find that it is…insipid. This is the thing of nightmares, of which Homer sang in his ballad Odysseus gets home after a longish journey and finds the fridge bare. Unlike Penelope, I have been alert, devoting hours a day to developing ice cream recipes. Soon I shall have a formula ready to sell to the highest bidder. Now, a calliope, or rather, a callipo.
