1st class

Ah the glory of first class travel at standard prices. A brilliant thing, and able to do work on the way to work, which made the day less stressy. Arriving at St Pancras without a cricked back and bruised knees is a thing of glory. Lots of rain today again, this is good news for thirsty gardens but perhaps less wonderful when you are dancing through puddles. Work not entirely bad. Had  a few laughs with Keith.

Reading the Matthew D'Ancona Post Truth book on the way home, which is dovetailing nicely with reading I've been doing about postmodernism lately. And linked to a kind of personal ah-ha moment too regarding my writing. 

Home and Lorraine and I had a gorgeous stir fry and watched a couple of episodes of Frasier. I never tire of that series, and we saw the one where Frasier is trying to find some peace and quiet and having been driven out of work and home, says he is going to the park to read, but it is raining so ends up at Cafe Nervosa, whereupon Niles walks in on him. "What fresh hell is this?" Frasier mutters.

Googled Richard in the Guernsey Evening Press, and a nice photo of him reading at his book launch, which I've stolen below.