The big sleep

Narcoleptic morning, achy and unable to get out of bed. Neurotic about being ill before my concert next week, I decided to hermetically seal myself indoors and take it easy. Lorraine, who of course is really ill, did the same. I also biffed a night out with the Music boys I had planned, which was a shame.

A cheery seeming Cath popped by for a cup of cocoa and a chat. Lorraine spoke to Sam who fell off his bike skidding on black ice and has a badly bruised hip and wrist. For me it was a sofa day, watching Rugby on TV, and then Borgen, a well-acted Danish TV series about a woman prime minister.

The rest of the country it seems had snow, but down in the valley of Brighton we had teeming rain. Lorraine and I and Calliope went to sleep listening to the lovely sound of it falling on velux windows.

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