The visage on your left is that of the actor Benedict Cumberbatch. A very talented actor who can play the world's most famous detective in a telly prog, or an incompetent airline steward on the wireless. One extreme to the other, you see. So, what is he doing on the exalted pages of this blog? Well may you ask. Do I come across as a little conceited? Is there an air of self-satisfied bumptiousness in my verbal perambulations? Is my head as big as the hangar that housed the R101 (an ill-fated airship, the symbolism of which - let me assure you - is not lost on your humble author)?
The more perceptive of you will have realized by now that something rather nice has befallen me. The drawing of Mr. Cumberbatch earned me twelve points and therefore third place on the podium of this month's Caricature competition. AND that's despite the dodgy hand (dodgy hands again, you see).
In the original pencil drawing I had the modern Sherlock holding a magnifying glass. The more intelligent member of our marital partnership pointed out that, in the television programme, the great detective was more reliant on his mobile phone.
"Excellent!" I cried. "Elementary," said she.
So, in it went.
