Chelsea socks

Lorraine up early today, to give Beth a lift back from the station to her flat and then to work. I got up and sought out my Chelsea socks, and tinkered with poems for a while. Breakfast later, and then found myself watching the Royal Wedding. Found myself drawn into the pomp and enjoying the acknowledgement of black people in it. Spotting Camilla - look it's Jane! Lorraine particularly enjoyed a fiery speech by an American preacher Michael Curry. I still say off with their heads though, although the Brits do market themselves as a heritage industry quite well.

After this Dawn came around, and had a cheeky cup of tea and a catch up with us. Nice to see her.

Then off to Anton's house for some food (home made wings with woof woof sauce, pulled pork and some lovely salads and so on). And the FA Cup final between Chelsea and Manchester United. It was a dire game but Chelsea won it, with a penalty scored by the best player on the park guv'nor, Chelsea's Belgian maestro Eden Hazard. Naturally, flashing my ankles emblazoned with the Chelsea badge, I was watching it with Anton, the GodBairns,  Klaudia sporting her Manchester United top, and Oskar full of Man U inflected opinions on the game, as well as Anne and Lorraine (who slept through much of it) meant that Chelsea's victory was greeted with more long faces than a pack of greyhounds. Still we had a really nice time, and the food was great and beer was drunk. All well.

Lorraine and I sloped down the hill to the station, where we cabbed home. Liveliness in the taxi queue, with two homeless people abusing one another (one of whom was about to get into a taxi with a takeaway).

Below, found myself being offered Clameur for a snip at just shy of £58.

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