Shame is the name, í know.
The treasure is still as it was delivered to me, safely sealed up in the Omega packing box. {It's actually at the end of my bed, so one could say í am literally sleeping with as well as on it}.
So í have not even opened the box to inspect the contents, let alone viewed the media. This, to my embarrassment, is partly practical and partly psychological ~ í am in the process of moving house and, Touch Woody, shall be in my new flat in just over a month's time. í don't want to engage with the thrilling process {for me} of going through the contents until í am settled into my new cave.
í have had to do a mammoth de-clutter of my old place over the last month {and due to various f***-ups on my part have managed to lose a whole wing of the Frady Print Archive ~ mags, clippings, programmes, etc, c.88-94, but í can't even talk about that right now, fresh wounds etc} and what remains, such as VCRs, is in storage, backs of cars, Etc.
That's the practical reason. The psychological is that í am an OCD pleasure-delaying nutjob, that procrastinates over anything potentially pleasurable.
So, All Apologies for the delay, but the tapes aren't going anywhere, and í am not trying to be a tease. A good time will be had, all in good time. As my Doctor tells me...
.