Big news this morning about a foiled plot to put 10 bombs on planes bound for the US, mainly by British citizens. An unhappy business - and from my perspective since 9/11 no progress has been made in foreign policy, and I can't help feeling we are reaping what we sow.
Romy is due to fly back to Canada on Saturday, we can only guess if this will affect that.
Travelled up with Anton again on the train. Discussing the terror alert, and the pressing matter of double glazing which I have noticed other houses in the twitten have. Anton, however, looked quite pained when I said I was considering it which may mean it is not right.
Work was fine. I did everything I needed to do in an intense two hour period, then went for a long lunch with the Gnome and others, and returned to play ping-pong with great fierceness and skill. I also booked tomorrow off as a holiday.
Met Toby and Romy at Victoria station to travel down to Brighton together. Unfortunately a smartly dressed but utterly disgraceful drunk (the worst case of exhibition class drinking I'd seen in a full year and a half of commuting) was sat across the aisle from Romy making slurred phonecalls which seemed to be political in tone. At one point he poured one of his several plastic beakers of gin and tonic over the floor, narrowly missing Romy.
Because Romy didn't do the "you are invisible" face, the drunk began to fondly explain to her the virtues of Brighton, between breaking off shamelessly to vomit in the train. Nice.
A good laugh in Brighton. I enjoyed hearing about Prague and watching Romy rapidly data collect as we walked through the closed shops of the North Laines.
Crossing over to the old Lanes, we had a brace of beers and then went for lots of tasty tapas at Casa Don Carlos. Me revelling in the fact that I had tomorrow off work. After this, we walked down to the sea to throw some stones into the water under a just-past-full moon. Turned for home sloping back up through Twittens and sidestreets, pausing only to stroke a cat.
Stewing over the Tetley teabag people. Being an inventor of revolutionary teabags is a strain, and after several emails, they rejected my idea.
Romy is due to fly back to Canada on Saturday, we can only guess if this will affect that.
Travelled up with Anton again on the train. Discussing the terror alert, and the pressing matter of double glazing which I have noticed other houses in the twitten have. Anton, however, looked quite pained when I said I was considering it which may mean it is not right.
Work was fine. I did everything I needed to do in an intense two hour period, then went for a long lunch with the Gnome and others, and returned to play ping-pong with great fierceness and skill. I also booked tomorrow off as a holiday.
Met Toby and Romy at Victoria station to travel down to Brighton together. Unfortunately a smartly dressed but utterly disgraceful drunk (the worst case of exhibition class drinking I'd seen in a full year and a half of commuting) was sat across the aisle from Romy making slurred phonecalls which seemed to be political in tone. At one point he poured one of his several plastic beakers of gin and tonic over the floor, narrowly missing Romy.
Because Romy didn't do the "you are invisible" face, the drunk began to fondly explain to her the virtues of Brighton, between breaking off shamelessly to vomit in the train. Nice.
A good laugh in Brighton. I enjoyed hearing about Prague and watching Romy rapidly data collect as we walked through the closed shops of the North Laines.
Crossing over to the old Lanes, we had a brace of beers and then went for lots of tasty tapas at Casa Don Carlos. Me revelling in the fact that I had tomorrow off work. After this, we walked down to the sea to throw some stones into the water under a just-past-full moon. Turned for home sloping back up through Twittens and sidestreets, pausing only to stroke a cat.
Stewing over the Tetley teabag people. Being an inventor of revolutionary teabags is a strain, and after several emails, they rejected my idea.
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