Gold Sofa über alles

A night without coughing again. It is a thing of beauty to be able to sleep again. Lorraine off to do Story Time. I waited for the man from V.R. Flowers, Mark Flowers,  to measure up some of the rooms for carpets, but also after discussion with him we're going to rethink the stairs carpet, so he'll have to come again. Otherwise assorted housework, and finally enjoying poems by Phil Dunn, a pal of Richard Fleming, and it's a collection mostly about work in its various forms. I wrote to him having read it.

Then for an early walk listening to Humphrey Carpenter's Inklings book. Carpenter makes the Inklings seem snobby and irritating. I don't know if this is me, Carpenter or the Inklings. 

Lorraine and I battened down the hatches tonight, as it was a miserable night and we have a lot on this weekend socially. We summoned a curry from The Viceroy, and spend the evening watching TV. We each had a can of lager too. I must be going through an unadventurous phase, but snuggling on the gold sofa watching The Traitors and a few other bits seems a perfectly decent way to spend the evening.