Hawthorn red

Some work arrived from Paris this evening, which means I shall have some gainful employment this week. Had billed them this morning, and also followed up with my pals in Paddington, who contacted me last week to ask about availability. When I said I was available, I heard nothing more, which is par for the course. (I feel I can employ golfing metaphors crossing through a golf course more days than not these days).

Otherwise a bit of writing of my own stuff, and a bit of reading. Also filling the holes in the ceiling in the bathroom, after a spot of consultancy with Anton having sent him some pictures.

Listening to a lecture course about ancient Mesopotamia. I am beginning to get an overview of how Egyptians, Mesopotamians, Sumerians, Cananites, Jews, Nubians, Romans, Greeks, Persians and the rest fit together a bit now. Helpful when you realise that Mesopotamia is just Greek for 'between two rivers' -- and is situated between the Tigris and the Euphrates. 

Lorraine home, and happy to be safely on the sofa watching a decompressing episode of Death In Paradise on TV and all well.

Another bracing lunchtime stroll. A beautiful blue day today, which made the red of the hawthorn berries sing out. Something about the colour is utterly gladdening.




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