Adding milk to water

Oddly fragile and demotivated this morning. I blame Anton. I made myself a cup of tea and poured myself a glass of water in the kitchen this morning. As they were side by side, I added milk to the water, which I took as a bad sign. I'm not sure of what it was, exactly.

I worked a little on the play, and was phoned by the agency to give a short amount of time to considering an client idea that even the dogs in the street could see was a wrong 'un.

Meanwhile various friends have been doing highly interesting things. Richard Gibson is out in Kavala with Glen and Eleni in yet another manifestation of the Shakespeare Heptet. I saw this link to a local TV appearance. I love the bit where Richard starts talking and overdubbed Greek emerges.  Meanwhile Jane's been at her Royal impersonations again as you can see here.

I read an excellent essay by David Foster Wallace here, a humorous account of a seven day Caribbean cruise, which I heard being discussed on R4's A Good Read.

In the afternoon I walked over to see Janet and Ken for cup of tea and a natter. Ken eating biscuits with some gusto, Janet working on a new piece of embroidery, but saying that the background is so nice she doesn't want to put anything over it. Walked home and found Lorraine back from having had an injection in the top of her foot.

Nevertheless we were able to hobble down to The Shahi where we met Lynn and Malcolm, and Betty whose plans had fallen through for the evening. Malcolm full of the joys of New York, where they went a few weeks ago, and revelled in the snow.

Home, and revelling in the idea of it being Friday.

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