Day with a curly tail

Got up early and worked on a poem, then took a brief from my chums at Tavistock Square and I spent the rest of day on pig health. I am a swine writer. I was alone in the house today, necessitating some severe talking to myself, as mysteriously the vast Kenny intellect was wanting to think about almost anything other than the job at hand. Which was non-Buddhist of me, and made a simple job a bit of a struggle. Sensing a loss of discipline the cats came in to supervise me for most of the afternoon.

Lorraine at home in the evening and we spent some time gloating over our bedroom furniture, and rearraing clothes into it. Then supper and a watch of Wolf Hall, based on the Mantel novels I'd liked. The locations were exquisite.

Below Brian winking weirdly at me and Calliope in my office. I have decided it is called my office during the week, and my study at the weekend. The shot nicely captures the seagull guano on the window too.