A tidy dungeon is a tidy mind
Lorraine and I up and possessed of a fire to sort out the dungeon downstairs. Now that we had got rid of the dead tumble dryer. A good deal of business. If you are to have a dungeon, it's best to ensure it is a tidy one. Nobody likes an untidy dungeon, it is bad Feng Shui.
This done, Lorraine and I simply chilled for the rest of the day. We lurked about companionably reading and sewing and so on. I read Caleb Femi's book Poor, and it is wonderful in many ways. I also finished Don Paterson's Sonnets, because Robin's always on about him, and read the last few poems in the collection by Katerina Angelaki Rooke, who my old pal Tim knew and was influenced by. An afternoon of simply reading poems. There is a lot to recommend it.
Spoke to Anton, who had been painting the outside of his house, and to Mum who took delivery of a lemon meringue pie (a PK favourite) from a neighbour, except it was a vegan pie made with chick pea water, which looks exactly like meringue. I had pie envy.
L and I had our traditional Sunday roast chicken, and shared a bottle of wine, and watched assorted bits of TV. One day going out again will be possible, but for now there are worse things to be doing that watching TV on a dark November night, sipping wine with your Mrs.