Iron discipline

Woke up with my head buzzing with ideas, as Calliope and Brian walked on me. They are no respecters of hangovers. Fed the wretched weasels at about eight thirty and then made tea and crept back into bed. Cheery and optimistic today. I am usually dubious about January, and use the turn of the year to brood on my own shortcomings. This year I am simply not going to do that nonsense.

Lorraine and I discussing in bed the iron discipline that we will employ to make a success of this year. I feel the need to heft myself up by my bootlaces. I am not fit, I am overweight (as ever at this time of year) and need to generate cash, and push on with my projects. Today, however, was about gently starting the year. Drank no booze today, for which my liver and kidneys are profoundly grateful. Lorraine cooked a rather marvellous turkey pie, as we were chatting to Mum on FaceTime.  Spoke also to Anton, who had watched all the Indiana Jones movies last night at home with a cold.

Lorraine and I then found the 'boxed set' of Bleak House on iPlayer, which we binged watched this evening it was about thirteen years old. Excellent it was. I must read Bleak House again, having not read it since I was doing A Levels. Anna Maxwell Martin was brilliant as Ester Summerson, making one of Dickens's typical wishy washy heroines into someone loveable and strong.

Tom staying tonight, and we had a good chat with him too. He had to go off to lapland the other day for work, and the planes all safely landed, he was able to go skiing, and message his engineer mates with photos of himself on the slopes.

And on this first day of the year, Janet's obituary from Sue Kay, appeared in the Guardian.

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