Feeling the tables spinning underfoot.

There's a party nearby, music and revelry are twitching in past the well-sanded window frames. The rest of my household is sleeping through it; phew. Otherwise I might find myself trudging through the rain in my dressing-gown to ask our neighbours to turn it down. I don't like to do that; I've a large karmic debt to tolerant neighbours of my past, and it's embarrassing to be the fuddy duddy, especially as my neighbours are old enough to be my parents.