Intimations of mortality. Walking with the FB by the river at lunch discussing his heart problem, with various rooks, seagulls etc. picking at stones at the edge of the water and yarping peevishly at each other. It may be that he has a Tony Blair style zap to get the thing back into a proper rhythm again, or munching medications for the rest of his life. He has tests later on this week.

Being a hypochondriac I have contemplated my own non-being on a regular basis, whereas the FB is bullet proof. (Apart that is from the broken ribs Max gave him when he was tickling her.) She is naturally very worried, what with little Tahlia being but a couple of months old. She now has a thermonuclear option in their discussions about how much red wine he drinks.

He is able to laugh at it, which is very impressive. He is a good bloke and it is at times like this that you find out who your mates are. And I am one of them
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MJ has the deposition tomorrow, which was postponed from last week, and a job interview. No stress there then.

Otherwise a quiet day at work, with me still being big and clever. The Gnome back too, which was very welcome. Here is the view over the Gnome's shoulder, out onto the river from the window by our desks.