Slow Sunday
A slow breakfast, juicer out and a foamy sort of celery, carrot and apple drink. I had sardines on toast, which Lorraine erroneously maintains is not a breakfast food at all.
Lorraine working hard most of the day. I had the luxury of getting my poetry files into focus. I had duplicated files, and files with different versions and it had all got out of control and took hours to sort out. If in doubt, tidy up, and I feel the threads I need to pick up are at least discernible.
Larry Sanders fest today, then cooked a mash of carrot, butternut squash and potato, with a modicum of butter and some grated Parmesan and black pepper. Simple but nice, especially if you leave it a little lumpy and serve with gravy, greens and a turkey steak.
Lorraine and I bumped into Reuben and his son Serge. Later watched a beautifully shot adaptation of Sebastian Faulks' novel Birdsong. Amazing cinematography, and beautiful people staring at each other with longing, interspersed with ghastly trench warfare.
A slow breakfast, juicer out and a foamy sort of celery, carrot and apple drink. I had sardines on toast, which Lorraine erroneously maintains is not a breakfast food at all.
Lorraine working hard most of the day. I had the luxury of getting my poetry files into focus. I had duplicated files, and files with different versions and it had all got out of control and took hours to sort out. If in doubt, tidy up, and I feel the threads I need to pick up are at least discernible.
Larry Sanders fest today, then cooked a mash of carrot, butternut squash and potato, with a modicum of butter and some grated Parmesan and black pepper. Simple but nice, especially if you leave it a little lumpy and serve with gravy, greens and a turkey steak.
Lorraine and I bumped into Reuben and his son Serge. Later watched a beautifully shot adaptation of Sebastian Faulks' novel Birdsong. Amazing cinematography, and beautiful people staring at each other with longing, interspersed with ghastly trench warfare.
Comments