An interlude of calm

A productive day spent mostly writing. Working on a monologue as an ironic counterpoint to the more po-faced poetry, called Peter Kenny is not himself. Beth and Lorraine off shopping and looking at carry cots this morning, and then sat doing a jigsaw together 

I waddled off to the gym. Almost empty when I arrived, then after half an hour of cross trainer trundling,  suddenly crowded with school kids. Good to see girls as well as boys using the equipment. However this meant I was unable get on any of the equipment as kids had settled on everything like eager locusts.

I took a longer walk home by the sea to compensate. Not as nippy as it had been. Home and James arrived just after I'd showered, and we sat about downstairs eating pizzas, made with lots of ingredients and on sourdough bases Lorraine and made. A cheery evening, though Beth is done by nine o'clock. 

Below: I liked the look of this empty bench as I passed it. An image of calmness.