A Chinese feast
Up and about this morning. Both of us went to our respective gyms, despite both of us feeling sluggish. I managed to trundle on the cross trainer for 25 minutes before feeling washed out. Walked there and back, so much better than nothing. Lorraine went to her gym too. Met back at home, and then got ready to go to Anton's house to celebrate Ann's birthday, which had been on Monday. Oskar had been to a Chinese society in the morning, with one of his best pals. His pal, from a Chinese family, got bored and left Oskar there. His pal's dad, who was running the class, translated everything for Oskar. Klaudia there too, of course, but was feeling under the weather.
Anton had excelled himself in the Chef department, cooking steamed pork and poussin and ribs in a Chinese themed meal. Lovely stuff. As usual, a very cheery evening. Anton under new advice to cope with the raging tinnitus he experiences, which involves meditation and going to bed at midnight for the first two weeks, so that his body gets used to him being very tired when he goes to bed, thus making him fall asleep quickly. This regime is exhausting though, as he tends to wake up and start the day at six. Ann on good form, and we had a nice chat while Anton and Lorraine got sucked into a complicated game, one of those Tin-Tinesque traversing a jungle games.
Lorraine and I rolled down to the station, full of food, and glancing in at the Sunday evening, mid-January emptiness of the pubs. We got a cab from there home, and the cabbie said that it was very quiet this time of year, barely worth working the weekends.
Anton had excelled himself in the Chef department, cooking steamed pork and poussin and ribs in a Chinese themed meal. Lovely stuff. As usual, a very cheery evening. Anton under new advice to cope with the raging tinnitus he experiences, which involves meditation and going to bed at midnight for the first two weeks, so that his body gets used to him being very tired when he goes to bed, thus making him fall asleep quickly. This regime is exhausting though, as he tends to wake up and start the day at six. Ann on good form, and we had a nice chat while Anton and Lorraine got sucked into a complicated game, one of those Tin-Tinesque traversing a jungle games.
Lorraine and I rolled down to the station, full of food, and glancing in at the Sunday evening, mid-January emptiness of the pubs. We got a cab from there home, and the cabbie said that it was very quiet this time of year, barely worth working the weekends.
Comments