Old friends

Lorraine had arranged for a supermarket delivery to come this morning between 7 and 9. So up before the sparrows. However, when she checked it, the delivery was going to be made to our old address in Brighton. Lorraine having to make lots of phone calls, where she was assured she could drive to Hove and collect the order this afternoon. This a 40 minute drive. She drove off, and she'd been told a load of bollocks on the helpline, and so had to do the whole shop from scratch. Basically sorting this out took hours and was very frustrating considering the whole idea of a delivery was to save time.

Meanwhile, I did the stuff for my client and sent it off to France around lunchtime.  Broke off so that Robin and I could re-record a conversation where on playback the channels recorded two Robins instead of both of us. Late feedback from the client, who tryingly true to form, wanted to make changes. Means I am going to have to do it tomorrow morning, which left me feeling a tad irritated.

Spoke to Mum, who bless her is sorting out the car business. A new one, which she was going to swap for the stolen one anyway, arriving tomorrow. Mas okay.

Lorraine out this evening to her book group xmas meal, I went into Brighton, the football team where playing Marseilles this evening, so the train packed with Seagulls fans. Guano everywhere. Once they'd all flocked off at Falmer, I found Mark on the train, and we went together to the Batty where we met Peter Hoibak. A cheery few beers with them. I am enjoying Peter's company after all these years. A lovely chap.  We sloped off to Fatto a Mano for a pizza afterwards. Farewell to Peter at the station, and Mark and I hopped on a train to Lewes, top hats still reasonably vertical and proper. Fond farewells. I had to hang about for the Seaford train. Brighton had won. Lorraine already tucked up and fast asleep when I returned. 

Below the view from our bed just after dawn.