On many occasions, I heard the song "Fly me to the moon" and saw me flying above the Big Ben and the Palace of Westminster in my dreams. Were they dreams, or signs? I still could recall vividly that I flew with an umbrella in the night sky. The wind was not chilly, and it had a sweet aroma. The moon was round and huge. Don't I sound like the mysterious and acerbic magical nanny, Mary Poppins? - Except that I wasn't blown by the East Wind to Number Seventeen Cherry Tree Lane into the Banks' household. Like the Apple Magic Mouse, the umbrella knew exactly where I was heading. I believe I can fly ... like Mary Poppins. Happy New Year 2010! ;-)
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