Happy Friday
Woke up feeling stressed this morning, and my face was twitching. Perhaps this was due to Calliope again waking me at 3:30 and when I chucked her off the bed, vomited in protest a bit later. I felt like shaking her like a ginger stepchild. Meanwhile Lorraine had little voice, and was clearly going down with the evil cold Beth has had. She made off to work though.
However, I found out first thing that mes amis in Paris where happy with the work I sent last night, so suddenly a day of capering about instead of slogging at my desk. A few bits to finish off this morning, and FaceTimed Mum before I scampered off into town to have a haircut. Nice chat in there, some of it around the notion of being Santa.
Then to the Bath Arms to meet Catherine Pope, who as usual I found inspiring and today a great listener as I was, I am afraid to say, on broadcast mode, given to sharing my various opinions particularly about subjects in which my knowledge is sketchy. She forgave me though, and I came away from my Papal audience uplifted, and resolved to be better. Catherine and I most underwhelmed by the food, which was simple fish and chips but served with a pot of noxious curry sauce, which when I enquired of the barman who served us what it was supposed to be, said it was traditional. I have had curry sauce in the past, but shudder to imagine that barbarous outpost this noxiously sweet, nutmeggy, substance of a sieved vomit consistency was traditional.
Home in fine spirits, although wrestling with not having bought a diary today. I have dates I need to put in next year's diary, but the red Moleskine diary was unavailable at Pen to Paper. An unthinkable scenario. The new and unhelpful woman there, after I explained that it had to be red, said that Teal was nice. First world problems. Last year I bought a sort of pinkish one, deviating from my Chinese red, and it was not a good year for business or otherwise. I am not making that mistake again. Feel tempted by olive green though. Hmm.
Home again, and did a few bits, before Beth and I went to the Preston Park Tavern, a nice chat and a pint in there, before Lorraine joined us for dinner. Played cards at the table too. A really fun day for me today.
However, I found out first thing that mes amis in Paris where happy with the work I sent last night, so suddenly a day of capering about instead of slogging at my desk. A few bits to finish off this morning, and FaceTimed Mum before I scampered off into town to have a haircut. Nice chat in there, some of it around the notion of being Santa.
Then to the Bath Arms to meet Catherine Pope, who as usual I found inspiring and today a great listener as I was, I am afraid to say, on broadcast mode, given to sharing my various opinions particularly about subjects in which my knowledge is sketchy. She forgave me though, and I came away from my Papal audience uplifted, and resolved to be better. Catherine and I most underwhelmed by the food, which was simple fish and chips but served with a pot of noxious curry sauce, which when I enquired of the barman who served us what it was supposed to be, said it was traditional. I have had curry sauce in the past, but shudder to imagine that barbarous outpost this noxiously sweet, nutmeggy, substance of a sieved vomit consistency was traditional.
Home in fine spirits, although wrestling with not having bought a diary today. I have dates I need to put in next year's diary, but the red Moleskine diary was unavailable at Pen to Paper. An unthinkable scenario. The new and unhelpful woman there, after I explained that it had to be red, said that Teal was nice. First world problems. Last year I bought a sort of pinkish one, deviating from my Chinese red, and it was not a good year for business or otherwise. I am not making that mistake again. Feel tempted by olive green though. Hmm.
Home again, and did a few bits, before Beth and I went to the Preston Park Tavern, a nice chat and a pint in there, before Lorraine joined us for dinner. Played cards at the table too. A really fun day for me today.
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