Walking in circles

Monday and blearily awake early, the house rattling in the teeth of storm Imogen. I like the fact they have names. A house along the coast had its roof blown off. I went for several walks just around the block. I have a little circular route, through Blakers park and around the streets. A few small branches among the debris, and the rattle and boom of the area's empty wheeled rubbish bins falling over every now and then. I pulled one that had just blown into the centre of the road. Occasional stinging rain. If I'd had more time I would have ventured down to the sea.These circular walks interludes in a day of agency work.

Listening to an interview with John Irving, author of A Prayer for Owen Meany which is a wonderful book.

I cooked a curry, which we ate when Lorraine got home. Evening spent carrying things again, moving furniture about in the house, and trying and failing to fit bits Tetris-like into Beth's room. Watched the first of a brand new series of The X-Files, which was all fun. Then early to bed.

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