No place like it
Home today: sadly the place looked like a bomb had hit it. Oh the constantly depressing absence of servants.
Calliope thoughtfully woke me at 6:30, so had an early start, tidying up, laundry, shopping, paying bills (prompted a text from Southern Water on my mobile phone about taking further action) paying my glamorous accountant etc. Calliope content having been given frozen prawns, which seems to be the only food she actually likes.
Met Klaudia and Oskar's Godmother Anna while zooming about. Anton says that makes her my Godwife but surely this is wrong. Her little daughter India looks really cute. Anna's mum had been taken ill last week, but seems to be recovering excellently, and she was going home to Bristol see her tonight. Anna said that after she heard the news she stuttered for four days.
Bought a new kettle. My expensive kettle simply stopped working. But at least it didn't suffer the same fate as its electric predecessor: being melted on the hob by the Tobster. Caught up with correspondence and tinkered ineffectually with poems. Richard sent me some really useful feedback on my latest offering, however. The afternoon, a blessed hour's nap on my gold sofa, with Calliope making happy feet as she slept on top of me.
Got feedback from the agency about the work Sean and I had done. Apparently it went down so well with the client, that they won't need me there next week to do amends on it. Talk about being too skilled for your own good. However very happy about having a PK week, as there are a million things that need doing.
To the Battle of Trafalgar this evening, where Lorraine and I put the world to rights over beers and peanuts. The large pub dog sitting with its chin on my thigh for some time, which would have had Anton spilling his beer. Home to cheese on toast, and snoozing on the sofa.
Home today: sadly the place looked like a bomb had hit it. Oh the constantly depressing absence of servants.
Calliope thoughtfully woke me at 6:30, so had an early start, tidying up, laundry, shopping, paying bills (prompted a text from Southern Water on my mobile phone about taking further action) paying my glamorous accountant etc. Calliope content having been given frozen prawns, which seems to be the only food she actually likes.
Met Klaudia and Oskar's Godmother Anna while zooming about. Anton says that makes her my Godwife but surely this is wrong. Her little daughter India looks really cute. Anna's mum had been taken ill last week, but seems to be recovering excellently, and she was going home to Bristol see her tonight. Anna said that after she heard the news she stuttered for four days.
Bought a new kettle. My expensive kettle simply stopped working. But at least it didn't suffer the same fate as its electric predecessor: being melted on the hob by the Tobster. Caught up with correspondence and tinkered ineffectually with poems. Richard sent me some really useful feedback on my latest offering, however. The afternoon, a blessed hour's nap on my gold sofa, with Calliope making happy feet as she slept on top of me.
Got feedback from the agency about the work Sean and I had done. Apparently it went down so well with the client, that they won't need me there next week to do amends on it. Talk about being too skilled for your own good. However very happy about having a PK week, as there are a million things that need doing.
To the Battle of Trafalgar this evening, where Lorraine and I put the world to rights over beers and peanuts. The large pub dog sitting with its chin on my thigh for some time, which would have had Anton spilling his beer. Home to cheese on toast, and snoozing on the sofa.
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