Minimal migration issues
The kitten stood on my face at 5:30. After a difference of opinion about this, I lay awake listening to her exact terrible reprisals against the Christmas tree downstairs.
After big bowls of porridge, Lorraine went off shopping steadily working her way through her list, while I got down to work. After a while, my mobile phone suddenly began to die - not a good idea if you work for yourself. At the Orange shop a young man showed me phones until he realised I looked glazed and was going to have a nosebleed. I opted for a Sony Ericsson same as last time. Good choice, he said, as migration issues are minimal. Thank God, I said.
Then met Lorraine again for a defrosting coffee, and to The Eagle pub, which Lorraine's pal Caz runs. They share a hairdresser, and found that they are sporting identical haircuts and looked like brother and sister. We scarfed a late Sunday afternoon roast beef meal which I accompanied with a restrained pint of IPA, which reminded me of Dave my grandfather who was partial to an Randalls IPA in Guernsey. Caz drifted by from time to time, handing out flakes and singing.
Then into Mad Hatters for hat business. Had a nice chat with the owner, who (unsurprisingly) remembered me going in there with the Cat with the Hat. Meanwhile Lorraine bought a little red hat. It always feels like a scene from the Marx Brothers when there is a good deal of hat play. I came away wearing the hat of a connoisseur: a nice green felt hat with a wide brim.
Home again, and talking to Mum and Toby who both sound cheery. After Lorraine left, I split the evening between working, and periodically trying on my new hat. Calliope seems not to like it.
Avoided Match of the Day today, as Chelsea infuriatingly squandered their chance of taking leadership of the Premier league, drawing to West Ham. Sometimes I hate football.
The kitten stood on my face at 5:30. After a difference of opinion about this, I lay awake listening to her exact terrible reprisals against the Christmas tree downstairs.
After big bowls of porridge, Lorraine went off shopping steadily working her way through her list, while I got down to work. After a while, my mobile phone suddenly began to die - not a good idea if you work for yourself. At the Orange shop a young man showed me phones until he realised I looked glazed and was going to have a nosebleed. I opted for a Sony Ericsson same as last time. Good choice, he said, as migration issues are minimal. Thank God, I said.
Then met Lorraine again for a defrosting coffee, and to The Eagle pub, which Lorraine's pal Caz runs. They share a hairdresser, and found that they are sporting identical haircuts and looked like brother and sister. We scarfed a late Sunday afternoon roast beef meal which I accompanied with a restrained pint of IPA, which reminded me of Dave my grandfather who was partial to an Randalls IPA in Guernsey. Caz drifted by from time to time, handing out flakes and singing.
Then into Mad Hatters for hat business. Had a nice chat with the owner, who (unsurprisingly) remembered me going in there with the Cat with the Hat. Meanwhile Lorraine bought a little red hat. It always feels like a scene from the Marx Brothers when there is a good deal of hat play. I came away wearing the hat of a connoisseur: a nice green felt hat with a wide brim.
Home again, and talking to Mum and Toby who both sound cheery. After Lorraine left, I split the evening between working, and periodically trying on my new hat. Calliope seems not to like it.
Avoided Match of the Day today, as Chelsea infuriatingly squandered their chance of taking leadership of the Premier league, drawing to West Ham. Sometimes I hate football.
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