Why the long faeces?
New train timetable, so the train I caught was cramped, with standing room only from my stop and no elbow room to type. A long walk at lunch, where I spoke to Mum who had been gardening and sauntered by the canals. What is it about water, even a dirty old canal, that is calming to me? Water of any sort seems to be a natural tranquilliser. This afternoon I was told it might be a two-day week for me. A tad galling having paid for a week's travel, I did have a verbal agreement to be working with them till mid July, so I have asked for clarification. Either way is good. Home, reading Fidelity , the collection of short stories by Canadian writer Michael Redhill that Innis had lent me. Good stuff, and nicely ambiguous endings. Home, and Lorraine had just arrived, needing a glass of wine for various headteacher reasons. Reuben sent me a joke today: two goldfish go into a bar, and the barman says, 'why the long faeces?'