Lurking and changing

Up early and working through a list of stuff. Returned to the criminals at HSBC with some identification, which was graciously accepted.

My list also included me getting in touch with my old friend Mario Petrucci, with whom I had a conversation. I happened to be in the gym changing room at the time, the only place I could get any reception. Stood about for some half an hour there discussing the virtues of modernism, and other poetry, while being eyed uncertainly by the blokes in the changing room.  I also wrote to Pascale Petite, of whom I am a fanboy.

Good to be back in the gym, not that I'm doing too much other than a bit of trundling on the cross trainer. I need it, as I am on the fat end of my usual fat spectrum. Enjoying the longer walk to and from the gym across Preston Park.

Sonia here today, assuring me that I won't have to live in this house forever because it has too many stairs, and that I could have got a nice place if we hadn't insisted on Brighton. Sonia frowns on the stairs in our house.

Lorraine and Beth home together. Beth talking in a Yorkshire accent having been speaking to her pal Olivia. Lorraine in need of wine, then later feeling a bit unwell. Ate couscous and roasted vegetables and small bits of chicken. I had two cans of beer and watched the guilty pleasure TV of Gogglebox.

Leonard Nimoy died today. I like his last tweet, which read: "Life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" LLAP meaning Live Long and Prosper, one of his Vulcan catchphrases.

Below A beautiful day today. Here is a view of Blaker's Park, a couple of hundred yards away from us. The view is downhill, and the bright bit in the middle is actually the sea with the sun on it.