Friday, February 03, 2017


Good work on the novel this morning, then I mooched down to meet Catherine for papal audience in The Bath Arms, ate fish and chips and talked at Catherine till her ears wilted. Catherine with a day off from the University, really good to see her, although work has been hard, she's been off colour with a virus, and she was sad as one of her and Tanya's beloved cats died on Monday. Pet deaths are tough.

One of unappealing characteristics is moaning. Once I have moaned wretchedly for a while, I feel cleansed, happy and optimistic. Weirdly the hearers of this moaning don't always feel the same way. Luckily Catherine is made of robust stuff, and endures a bit of moaning in good spirit. She is a most excellent person to talk to, funny and entertaining and inspiring. Perhaps my subconscious takes her Pope surname to heart, and I come away feeling absolved.

Walked home afterwards in a good deal of rain, and felt suddenly very flat and tired. Spoke to Mum, in a flat and tired way, and then closed my eyes for a bit, and felt rejuvinated.

Soon Lorraine was home, after her difficult but successful week. Off to the Preston Park Tavern where we had a few drinks, and were joined by Dawn and Anton. A cheery evening. Anton full of shopping advice on clothes, although his favourites seem to be Eastern Bloc military surplus. Good to see Dawn too, who declared she wanted to live in Yorkshire in some kind of Wuthering Heights style.  Dawn and I chose a spicy cauliflower, lentil and rice dish there, which was tiny and overpriced. Not doing that again.

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