Spooky
Up early and down to work. Lorraine still poorly, and off work fortunately, although doing bits on her laptop until exhausted. I have felt hot, scratchy-throated, and drained but luckily this never amounts to anything.
Spoke to Mum who said Mas would not be unaccompanied on his trip, should it go forward.
A walk this afternoon, as I was yawning my head off. Went up to Hollingbury Hillfort, and it was so clear I could make out the Isle of Wight. Home, and after chatting to Lorraine, I read a story from Black Static magazine, where I want to get a story. The writer of the rather good story, called Other Houses, Sean Padraic Birnie lives in Brighton. A page or so into the story, I found I was reading about Hollingbury Hillfort, and where I had just been walking. Spooky. But then I guess that is the idea.
After all this fresh air, and horror reading I conked out (see hypochondriacal moan above) on the sofa for half an hour, and fell deeply asleep. A pleasant night in, taking care of poorly wifey, and early to bed.
Below on the bank of the hill fort, looking south west.
Spoke to Mum who said Mas would not be unaccompanied on his trip, should it go forward.
A walk this afternoon, as I was yawning my head off. Went up to Hollingbury Hillfort, and it was so clear I could make out the Isle of Wight. Home, and after chatting to Lorraine, I read a story from Black Static magazine, where I want to get a story. The writer of the rather good story, called Other Houses, Sean Padraic Birnie lives in Brighton. A page or so into the story, I found I was reading about Hollingbury Hillfort, and where I had just been walking. Spooky. But then I guess that is the idea.
After all this fresh air, and horror reading I conked out (see hypochondriacal moan above) on the sofa for half an hour, and fell deeply asleep. A pleasant night in, taking care of poorly wifey, and early to bed.
Below on the bank of the hill fort, looking south west.
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