An old fashioned Sunday hangover

Up early due to the skewer someone had inserted in my skull overnight, and Shaila and I tottered up the hill to where she had parked her car, and drove about Brighton until we found a car park near the sparkling sea.

Crept back to eat quorn sausage sandwiches with Lorraine, and sup teas as Calliope gambolled about. After some time Shaila felt she could cope with the drive home, and after walking her to her car, and fond farewells, I cooked a curry while Lorraine watched the last episodes of BSG.

Lorraine went home to give some furniture to Graeme who is moving to Dorset. I shambled around later, to move a chest of draws and talk to each other in joined up sentences before ambling home again. Listening to Goodbye To All That by Robert Graves as an audiobook on the way home. His experiences at Charterhouse school sound utterly vile.

Comments