Small heads

Poor night's sleep. After limited success writing, I went to speak to three estate agents to arrange valuations of my house in the Twitten. This appeared to be some sort of mental barrier it was good to have broken through. An interesting experience asking the same thing of three outfits. One, Austin Gray, seemed far more professional than the others.

This done, off to the gym where I had, for me, a lengthy workout. Then to the sinister Starbucks for a large cup of tea and a blueberry muffin and a far more successful writing session for a couple of hours. Then home via some shops where I bought John a card with a wearable Einstein mustache for his birthday.

In the evening, after cooking supper and eating it with Lorraine, off to see Anton in the Shakespeare's Head for a chat and to watch him eat some sausages. Anna is moving out this weekend, and Anton asked me to help move boxes and try to make the process as 'normal' as possible for the children.

Despite this a good night, with wide-ranging discussions over some beer. I asked Anton to do the signing duties as my witness when I get married. We talked about books and things with all the Elizabethan reproductions in the pub looking down on us with their disproportionately small heads.

Home, and my Lorraine listening to Mumford & Sons on the gold sofa.