A right royal time
End of a curiously unproductive week. More work this morning on the Centaur project. I sent Helen the next tranche of words, which she liked. Between ironing and other such glamorous activities, listening to my audiobook Villette by Charlotte Bronte. I love it. It's a case, as I was saying to Anton, of the right book at the right moment. I really liked Jane Eyre, but I think I prefer this. In the evening, Lorraine late back from work and frazzled after Friday IT problems. We wandered off to Preston Park Tavern which was so busy we opted instead for The Cleveland, which although near we'd never been into. It was a bit like stepping back into the 1980s, except the man sitting alone in the busy pub, staring at a little tablet, his face grimacing with all kinds of emotions. Football I think. Then down the hill to the Shahi. Chatting lots to Sabir, who was saying he wanted to come to the play. We enjoyed being in familiar surroundings and tucking into a curry. Meanwhile more ...