Bad hair day More insomnia. However a productive morning, and beautiful weather. Did laundry, food shopping and got a bad haircut. I was rooted with horror unable to find the words to avert the bald man as he gave me some sort of strange womanly curl of a quiff. Some emergency work back home made it bearable. My nerves can't take this. And baldness is a bad sign in a barber; like a thin butcher. A little later, walked up the hill to have coffee with Anton and Anna, and - vitally - be lent some more Frazier DVDs, as well as books on interior design. We went into the garden for a while, where they have a vine which has produced many bunches of small, sweet grapes. Also their peach tree which has lost a big branch under the weight of its fruit. Spoke to Mum who had returned from her holiday. Among other things, they'd driven to her grandparents' old house outside Folkstone , and she sounded like she and Mase had a really nice time doing things like going to Canterbury by bus...
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