Rain. Nothing but the wild rain on me in my teeshirt all day.
Slouched off to Paddington with Greg this morning in the pouring rain to show our water-streaked faces in a meeting. Despite the fact I cleverly looked at a map beforehand, we got lost finding the place and so were sopping by the time we got to press the flesh. Greg and me talking about love on the tube and how he had found a lovely new relationship. I may have mentioned MJ, I can't remember.
Back to Glamoursmith walking from the station in the rain. Al had came in to the office with baby Mia, and we went out in the drenching rain to Pizza Hut with Sarah and Hazel. Al is thinking of migrating, perhaps as far as to Australia or New Zealand, her husband Michael has sold his restaurant. Al looking well and now seems to be getting over her post natal depression, and has been off the pills. Mia is placid and is seven months old and was eating lots of beefy stuff that Al was poking into her.
A mini work lull this afternoon, and I snuck off in the rain for a rather tiring swim. Walking back to the office in the rain I spoke to Mike again, Dan has definitely turned a corner, though he will be on chemotherapy for 8 weeks. But he is being allowed home for a day tomorrow. This is great news and Mike sounding much more cheerful.
First matie sent some photos she had taken yesterday which I will put here. Also Matty Boy gallingly had his bicycle stolen from outside the Thatched House last night -- all the locks expertly sawn through. Matt H's bike, which was chained next to it, unharmed however.
Lurked in the galley for a bit afterwards trying to hold conversation with Phil and Ash and others above the din of noisy baby creatives who are being trialled at the moment. Reminded me of a Larson cartoon where someone finally invents a translator for dog barking and all they are saying is "me!" "me!" "me!". Tiresome.
Zoomed back feeling exceedingly tired, talking to MJ on the phone as I stepped out into a rain-free Brighton and scored a Chinese.
MJ has talked to her solicitor today, which is excellent.
Slouched off to Paddington with Greg this morning in the pouring rain to show our water-streaked faces in a meeting. Despite the fact I cleverly looked at a map beforehand, we got lost finding the place and so were sopping by the time we got to press the flesh. Greg and me talking about love on the tube and how he had found a lovely new relationship. I may have mentioned MJ, I can't remember.
Back to Glamoursmith walking from the station in the rain. Al had came in to the office with baby Mia, and we went out in the drenching rain to Pizza Hut with Sarah and Hazel. Al is thinking of migrating, perhaps as far as to Australia or New Zealand, her husband Michael has sold his restaurant. Al looking well and now seems to be getting over her post natal depression, and has been off the pills. Mia is placid and is seven months old and was eating lots of beefy stuff that Al was poking into her.
A mini work lull this afternoon, and I snuck off in the rain for a rather tiring swim. Walking back to the office in the rain I spoke to Mike again, Dan has definitely turned a corner, though he will be on chemotherapy for 8 weeks. But he is being allowed home for a day tomorrow. This is great news and Mike sounding much more cheerful.
First matie sent some photos she had taken yesterday which I will put here. Also Matty Boy gallingly had his bicycle stolen from outside the Thatched House last night -- all the locks expertly sawn through. Matt H's bike, which was chained next to it, unharmed however.
Lurked in the galley for a bit afterwards trying to hold conversation with Phil and Ash and others above the din of noisy baby creatives who are being trialled at the moment. Reminded me of a Larson cartoon where someone finally invents a translator for dog barking and all they are saying is "me!" "me!" "me!". Tiresome.
Zoomed back feeling exceedingly tired, talking to MJ on the phone as I stepped out into a rain-free Brighton and scored a Chinese.
MJ has talked to her solicitor today, which is excellent.
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