A scorcher
Hot as anything today. Woke to news of a nutter driving into a crowd of people outside a mosque in London, shouting that he wanted to kill all muslims. It is rioting weather.
Spoke to Mum sweltering up in London. I worked on The Second Kind of Darkness then in the late afternoon walked off to the gym and did a sweaty workout. Obviously the air conditioning works a little in the changing room, but nothing in the actual gym. I did a fair workout though, and walked home again on the shady side of the street.
Received a picture of a man pointing at a stepladder today from Beth, the caption being, you're not my real ladder!
In the walked back to the Evening Star (Lorraine stuck in a late meeting) where I met Glen, Steve and Richard, and Glen's pleasant brother and his pleasant girlfriend. Had all manner of nice chats and drank cold beer. I was not going to drink this week, a firm resolution that was dead by the end of the day. Richard plotting some new political bet, an accumulator which relies on the Queen's speech failing, Labour forming the new government and there being no election this year. Steve showed me the enormous scar on his leg. Glen over to do examining, but also a hive of activity planning his future. Toby Facetimed me while I was there too, saying his garden was being installed and showing me orange suited man carrying things into the garden. More tomorrow.
A cheery evening, and I walked back home through the park, it still very warm. Lorraine and I slept with the Juliette windows open again.
Glen's tattoos. The names of Sergei Rachmaninoff and the lovely Eleni.
Spoke to Mum sweltering up in London. I worked on The Second Kind of Darkness then in the late afternoon walked off to the gym and did a sweaty workout. Obviously the air conditioning works a little in the changing room, but nothing in the actual gym. I did a fair workout though, and walked home again on the shady side of the street.
Received a picture of a man pointing at a stepladder today from Beth, the caption being, you're not my real ladder!
In the walked back to the Evening Star (Lorraine stuck in a late meeting) where I met Glen, Steve and Richard, and Glen's pleasant brother and his pleasant girlfriend. Had all manner of nice chats and drank cold beer. I was not going to drink this week, a firm resolution that was dead by the end of the day. Richard plotting some new political bet, an accumulator which relies on the Queen's speech failing, Labour forming the new government and there being no election this year. Steve showed me the enormous scar on his leg. Glen over to do examining, but also a hive of activity planning his future. Toby Facetimed me while I was there too, saying his garden was being installed and showing me orange suited man carrying things into the garden. More tomorrow.
A cheery evening, and I walked back home through the park, it still very warm. Lorraine and I slept with the Juliette windows open again.
Glen's tattoos. The names of Sergei Rachmaninoff and the lovely Eleni.
Comments