Cafe society

Poor Lorraine up at sixish, so I got up early too getting things ready for the estate agents, and tweaking diabetes pen copy before I sent it into cyberspace.

Off into town to sit in Délice cafe and work happily on my business idea for a couple of hours, a simple thing that during the flu seemed like an impossible dream. The cafe, which I went to the first time with Anton the other day, is friendly and French. I strapped on the nosebag there too and wasn't disappointed. Home via Sainsbury's to reassure Sonia who was for some reason traumatised by having broken a cheap lamp, and offering to pay for it. I of course refused.

Spent the late afternoon tired, but happily listening to Wodehouse stories and cooking. Also looking at some poems by Dante Gabriel Rossetti that Julia, Bob's sister, sent me. Rossetti has passed me by, so this was an interesting exercise. Her blog about Rossetti is listed on the right, and is well worth a visit.


Comments

a said…
Rosetti married Elisabeth Siddall in Hastings, where he used to stay a bit, and so did she. When she died, he put a book of his poems in the coffin, but later regretted it, and dug her up. The coffin was full of her hair, which had continued to grow, apparently. But I expect you knew that…
Peter Kenny said…
I was looking on Siddall's wiki page the other day, and there is a poem she wrote that had been removed from her grave. Those Victorians eh?