A day of rest
A much needed day of rest. I got up early and worked on an old poem I have suddenly found a new way into, and is working really well. Then back to bed with cups of tea.
Reading the new Murakami, catchily entitled, Colourless Tsukuru Tazaki and his years of pilgrimage which Lorraine brought me. Enjoying Murakami as usual.
Messages from Toby, he is off to California to see Alex this week, and Romy and Tobs will be moving to Ottowa next year. Excellently, my bro will be over, arriving in the UK on Christmas Day.
A brief excursion to do some shopping in the afternoon and I cooked what turned out to be a strangely triumphant casserole, with chorizo and chicken, beans and various veggies and herbs, which Lorraine and I polished off this evening.
Anton stopped by this afternoon with Klaudia and Oskar having been to his Mum's in London, bearing belated birthday gifts, including a copy of The Communist Manifesto by Marx and Engles, which I have not read since I was twenty, and a DVD collection of the classic World at War documentaries, its gift tag saying 'Are you in this?' As usual, excellent to see my Godbairns, which Lorraine fed and gave them the left over trick or treat sweets. Klaudia is in a growing spurt and is taller, and sporting an interesting fringe. Oskar confided that he liked Rock and Roll, before his stomach started hurting and he needed to be taken home.
Both of us slumping with tiredness at night, my energy levels unhelped by a persistent throat infection. Normally at such times we would simply watch TV. But we are unable to get TV nor do we have broadband. Lorraine bought a booster aerial, but then we noticed that because we are in a valley other people’s aerials are all on long stalky poles so we had no joy with something hanging out of the back of the TV set. Thank goodness for DVDs. We watched a couple of Frasiers, an episode of The Wire and an original Star Trek before bed before ten.
Messages from Toby, he is off to California to see Alex this week, and Romy and Tobs will be moving to Ottowa next year. Excellently, my bro will be over, arriving in the UK on Christmas Day.
A brief excursion to do some shopping in the afternoon and I cooked what turned out to be a strangely triumphant casserole, with chorizo and chicken, beans and various veggies and herbs, which Lorraine and I polished off this evening.
Anton stopped by this afternoon with Klaudia and Oskar having been to his Mum's in London, bearing belated birthday gifts, including a copy of The Communist Manifesto by Marx and Engles, which I have not read since I was twenty, and a DVD collection of the classic World at War documentaries, its gift tag saying 'Are you in this?' As usual, excellent to see my Godbairns, which Lorraine fed and gave them the left over trick or treat sweets. Klaudia is in a growing spurt and is taller, and sporting an interesting fringe. Oskar confided that he liked Rock and Roll, before his stomach started hurting and he needed to be taken home.
Both of us slumping with tiredness at night, my energy levels unhelped by a persistent throat infection. Normally at such times we would simply watch TV. But we are unable to get TV nor do we have broadband. Lorraine bought a booster aerial, but then we noticed that because we are in a valley other people’s aerials are all on long stalky poles so we had no joy with something hanging out of the back of the TV set. Thank goodness for DVDs. We watched a couple of Frasiers, an episode of The Wire and an original Star Trek before bed before ten.
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