Thanks to the Cylons

A dreary grey day. Made Lorraine breakfast in bed, and then we got up and zoomed into town, where I had booked Lorraine an hour's massage. I took myself to my favourite non-ideologically sound Starbucks, and read poetry by Stephen Bone and James Sheard, enjoying both. Then I collected Lorraine, who said that she was coming back next week as she was only half done. There was a lot of work to be done on her apparently.

We sauntered up to Foodilic where we met Betty for a healthy lunch in her lunch break (vegetarian moussaka with two kinds of salad for L and I) chicken and two kinds of salad for Betty. Nice to catch up with her for a bit. Then she had to go back to work, and we did shopping and looked at curtains and other bits and pieces in various shops for some time, before grabbing a bus home.

A cozy evening in, with the weather being full of rain and drear outside. Read a bit of poetry wunderkind Kate Tempest's book Hold Your Own. Patchy so far, but not without interest.

Broke out the Battlestar Galactica box and started to watch the Cylons again. We'd watched them obsessively about ten years ago having borrowed them from Mason, when we lived apart. Lorraine would take them home and watch them on a portable DVD player in bed and go to sleep and have tense Cylon-related dreams apparently. Surprisingly late to bed, thanks to the Cylons.