Howdy ho London
To London today. The train draggingly slow through the snow-dusted fields to Victoria. I caught up on various podcasts, and yawned a good deal as I had accidentally gone to bed late, and an intruding black cat caused alarms in the night. Calliope, with me following, chased the larger intruder out, the same one she was biffing in the yard recently. I means I will have to put the magnet on Calliope's collar and use the magnetic catflap to exclude intruders.
Working today in Hammersmith with Betsy for a specialist healthcare agency. Betsy is an American art director, with a good visual imagination - and we make each other laugh despite working on concepts for a healthcare product that helps to prevent surgical site infections, or SSIs as they are known in the trade. In the afternoon we were joined by Hannah a medical expert writer, who thoughtfully showed us photographs of inflamed surgical site wounds. Betsy was jetlagged, and I was a bit braindead, so it was hard work - despite competing impressions of Mr Hankey, the Christmas Poo - the talking stool from South Park.
Bumped into lots of folks from my old agency, which is in the same building. Rick had seen me quoted on the BBC site, which was a bit cool.
After work I walked to The Dove in Hammersmith, a favourite old haunt by the chilly river. There I met The Gnome, and we sat gossiping near the open fire. He's being very positive about his new start, but his keep fit regime was stopped in its tracks by a broken toe, gained while going about the hazardous business of bringing his wife a cup of tea.
Then home to pile blankets and kitten on the bed, and make a hot water bottle.
Below Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo.
To London today. The train draggingly slow through the snow-dusted fields to Victoria. I caught up on various podcasts, and yawned a good deal as I had accidentally gone to bed late, and an intruding black cat caused alarms in the night. Calliope, with me following, chased the larger intruder out, the same one she was biffing in the yard recently. I means I will have to put the magnet on Calliope's collar and use the magnetic catflap to exclude intruders.
Working today in Hammersmith with Betsy for a specialist healthcare agency. Betsy is an American art director, with a good visual imagination - and we make each other laugh despite working on concepts for a healthcare product that helps to prevent surgical site infections, or SSIs as they are known in the trade. In the afternoon we were joined by Hannah a medical expert writer, who thoughtfully showed us photographs of inflamed surgical site wounds. Betsy was jetlagged, and I was a bit braindead, so it was hard work - despite competing impressions of Mr Hankey, the Christmas Poo - the talking stool from South Park.
Bumped into lots of folks from my old agency, which is in the same building. Rick had seen me quoted on the BBC site, which was a bit cool.
After work I walked to The Dove in Hammersmith, a favourite old haunt by the chilly river. There I met The Gnome, and we sat gossiping near the open fire. He's being very positive about his new start, but his keep fit regime was stopped in its tracks by a broken toe, gained while going about the hazardous business of bringing his wife a cup of tea.
Then home to pile blankets and kitten on the bed, and make a hot water bottle.
Below Mr Hankey the Christmas Poo.
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