Kenny Coffers
Cheered today by the folks in North Acton who called to ask me to return for six days starting next Monday, another big Yay! of relief from the dusty Kenny Coffers. Otherwise spent much of the day bent over The New Idea and making some speedy progress on it.
Lunchtime noodles chatting to Betty and Laura who had just returned after a lengthy night out with Laura's cousins from Dublin. Laura, who makes me laugh and somehow reminds me of my old pal Carl, vigorously celebrating her last day at her job, and talking in an immaculate Dublin accent and insisting she was going to fly to Dublin this afternoon, an idea which, like her Irish accent, Betty said wore off after a pizza and a bit of a snooze.
I went for a walk in the park, which is now busily being got ready for Pride this weekend, where it will be the scene of a good deal of cavorting. Absently mooched into the walled garden, where hidden in one corner where about a dozen teenage girls who looked at me stonily as I walked past, and in another corner two mothers with their toddlers who eyed me suspiciously. Felt vaguely in the wrong for simply wanting to take a stroll in a public garden and happening to be a man.
Listening to The Count of Monte Cristo again. Now approaching the last laps and loving the lengthy dénouement where he reveals his true identity in his moments of revenge.
Another blameless evening. Lorraine out birthday shopping with Sam, and I cooked a rather smart chickpea curry which we shared on her return.
Lunchtime noodles chatting to Betty and Laura who had just returned after a lengthy night out with Laura's cousins from Dublin. Laura, who makes me laugh and somehow reminds me of my old pal Carl, vigorously celebrating her last day at her job, and talking in an immaculate Dublin accent and insisting she was going to fly to Dublin this afternoon, an idea which, like her Irish accent, Betty said wore off after a pizza and a bit of a snooze.
I went for a walk in the park, which is now busily being got ready for Pride this weekend, where it will be the scene of a good deal of cavorting. Absently mooched into the walled garden, where hidden in one corner where about a dozen teenage girls who looked at me stonily as I walked past, and in another corner two mothers with their toddlers who eyed me suspiciously. Felt vaguely in the wrong for simply wanting to take a stroll in a public garden and happening to be a man.
Listening to The Count of Monte Cristo again. Now approaching the last laps and loving the lengthy dénouement where he reveals his true identity in his moments of revenge.
Another blameless evening. Lorraine out birthday shopping with Sam, and I cooked a rather smart chickpea curry which we shared on her return.
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