Back in the swim
Another swim at lunchtime, splashing along with the usual suspects, such as the man with the dyed red hair who swims breastroke with his head above water amid the joyless crawlers. To protect my skin from the chlorine I now wear a blue cap, which squeezes your head till your eyes bulge.
Two meetings late in the afternoon. One presenting website concepts to technical people one of whom had flown in from India just for the meeting. Then later, in salesman mode, I spent 40 minutes talking at an unfortunate client till he agreed with me.
On the train finishing my PG Wodehouse audio book Emsworth and Others while playing Zuma. I don't like the stories about Ukridge, but I enjoyed the ones about golf. Despite the fact I agree with Mark Twain that golf is a good walk spoiled. Something about the fact that golf came into each of the stories gave them a good structure. There was always going to be a game and a winner and a loser.
Home, I buckled down for a couple of hours to edit soundfiles of me and Anton trudging about in the country, our boots squeaking through the wet grass. Fun but very time consuming.
Another swim at lunchtime, splashing along with the usual suspects, such as the man with the dyed red hair who swims breastroke with his head above water amid the joyless crawlers. To protect my skin from the chlorine I now wear a blue cap, which squeezes your head till your eyes bulge.
Two meetings late in the afternoon. One presenting website concepts to technical people one of whom had flown in from India just for the meeting. Then later, in salesman mode, I spent 40 minutes talking at an unfortunate client till he agreed with me.
On the train finishing my PG Wodehouse audio book Emsworth and Others while playing Zuma. I don't like the stories about Ukridge, but I enjoyed the ones about golf. Despite the fact I agree with Mark Twain that golf is a good walk spoiled. Something about the fact that golf came into each of the stories gave them a good structure. There was always going to be a game and a winner and a loser.
Home, I buckled down for a couple of hours to edit soundfiles of me and Anton trudging about in the country, our boots squeaking through the wet grass. Fun but very time consuming.
Comments
Not only are you reading Wodehouse (which it warms the cockles of my heart to hear) but you agree with me on the Ukridge front!
Capital, capital, capital.