Cash for kibbles
Up to London again reading about riots again in The Guardian, though things have quietened down in the capital, there was a strong police presence in St. Pancras Station this evening.
Missing my iPod on the long homeward trips.
A trouble free day, writing mainly about kibbles. It does make you shake your head in wonder when you have kibbles to thank for doubloons in the Kenny coffers.
Happy as I am to be writing about kibbles, part of me would dearly like to tear myself away and work on the thousand other things I have to do. Leaving home at 7 and returning at 8:40 doesn't leave time for much else. Although I did sneak off during the afternoon with The FB for a chat. He's having a horrid time with his sister who is seriously ill with cancer. This rather put my own house moving stresses into sharp relief. Despite this we had a few laughs, with the FB fondly recalling his own juvenile outbreaks of public disorder. Returned to work and stayed a bit later to compensate.
Back in the Old Church Hall, Lorraine has been steadily sorting out the place. New broadband has been installed, and there is new glass in the front door with a hole for the catflap cut in the wrong place, so the will have to replace it. They have left the wrong glass in for the time being, and Brian has learned to squeeze out of it, while fat Basil had to be pushed through it like a cork. When I finally got home tonight, Lorraine and Beth and Mark where there all on the gold sofa. All quite cheery and soon I was scarfing a beany dish of Lorraine's invention and drinking a cold can of lager.
Calliope is passive aggressively ignoring me. Another early night.
Up to London again reading about riots again in The Guardian, though things have quietened down in the capital, there was a strong police presence in St. Pancras Station this evening.
Missing my iPod on the long homeward trips.
A trouble free day, writing mainly about kibbles. It does make you shake your head in wonder when you have kibbles to thank for doubloons in the Kenny coffers.
Happy as I am to be writing about kibbles, part of me would dearly like to tear myself away and work on the thousand other things I have to do. Leaving home at 7 and returning at 8:40 doesn't leave time for much else. Although I did sneak off during the afternoon with The FB for a chat. He's having a horrid time with his sister who is seriously ill with cancer. This rather put my own house moving stresses into sharp relief. Despite this we had a few laughs, with the FB fondly recalling his own juvenile outbreaks of public disorder. Returned to work and stayed a bit later to compensate.
Back in the Old Church Hall, Lorraine has been steadily sorting out the place. New broadband has been installed, and there is new glass in the front door with a hole for the catflap cut in the wrong place, so the will have to replace it. They have left the wrong glass in for the time being, and Brian has learned to squeeze out of it, while fat Basil had to be pushed through it like a cork. When I finally got home tonight, Lorraine and Beth and Mark where there all on the gold sofa. All quite cheery and soon I was scarfing a beany dish of Lorraine's invention and drinking a cold can of lager.
Calliope is passive aggressively ignoring me. Another early night.
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