Why the long faeces?

New train timetable, so the train I caught was cramped, with standing room only from my stop and no elbow room to type. A long walk at lunch, where I spoke to Mum who had been gardening and sauntered by the canals. What is it about water, even a dirty old canal, that is calming to me? Water of any sort seems to be a natural tranquilliser. This afternoon I was told it might be a two-day week for me. A tad galling having paid for a week's travel, I did have a verbal agreement to be working with them till mid July, so I have asked for clarification. Either way is good.

Home, reading Fidelity, the collection of short stories by Canadian writer Michael Redhill that Innis had lent me. Good stuff, and nicely ambiguous endings.  Home, and Lorraine had just arrived, needing a glass of wine for various headteacher reasons.

Reuben sent me a joke today: two goldfish go into a bar, and the barman says, 'why the long faeces?'