Ditto day

Bit of a ditto day. Mostly the same as yesterday, including the beetroot. Spoke to Mum and Mas at lunch, and in the evening a had long chat with Bob, stuck in a hotel bar in Peterborough.

At work coming to the end of the big job I have been working on. Quite nice to be signing off bits of artwork at last. Tomorrow I am covering for Pat by popping into a recording studio to oversee a voiceover recording for a corporate video.

Margaret Thatcher's funeral today. Even up around Tavistock Square soldiers in evidence, watching bits of it on my screen at work. One thing about this country is that we do pomp and circumstance quite well. Home reading The End of the Party, which is quite soap like. It is not the normal sort of book I read, which may be why I am enjoying it so much.

Learned a few things today, including about asemic writing, which is somewhere between abstraction and writing. It is writing that is deliberately done, but not understandable by anyone. A bit like the graffiti tags you pass in the street that are almost impossible to decipher. I think I shall be writing about it in my other blog once I learn more.

Home and Lorraine preparing for a surprise Ofstead on one of the schools she is supporting -- in between watching a programme about sewing. This a step too far even for me.

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