Pooterishly affronted

Monday, and Lorraine back to work, and off in the rain for an inset day. It was just the teachers. I tried to get a grip, feeling curiously nervy this morning and attempting to push on with stuff.  

The rain abated this afternoon, so I mooched up to the hill fort keen to walk, passing the same two women in the woods with their pack of dogs, only about 7 or 8 this time, with two school age children thrown into the mix. Dogs barked at me again. I felt Pooterishly affronted.

In the evening after dinner, I popped around to Rick's house and met him and Ben there, sitting at distance from one another in his kitchen. Nice to chat with them. Crept home at 10:30, and into bed. Lorraine fast asleep.

Below the muddy path on top of the hill fort, and a stencil I spotted on the street near me. The adrenochrome conspiracy theory suggests that Hollywood celebrities and the liberal elite have child rings from which they somehow extract a substance in there blood to be used in Satanic rituals. Disheartening to see this in Brighton, though the fetching pink is nice. The idiocy pandemic.