When I went to bed last
night "My Boy TM"’s bike was in
the hallway. When I got up this morning it was gone. I wonder what
was going on there? Mind you I did hear a minor ruckus about 3am. I
thought that a bomb had gone off in the garden, but when I looked out
I didn’t see anything. Perhaps that was him quietly collecting his
bike?
There's no denying that
today felt odd. In years gone by today would be but a drunken haze at
Canterbury beer festival, but enforced austerity and a healthy dose
of being sensible (to say nothing of weight watching) put paid
to excessive drinking.
Having a day to myself I
had all sorts of things planned. And in a novel break with tradition
I got the planned stuff done. I spent a couple of hours applying for
jobs for which I know I will be turned down (not that I’m
getting bitter or anything!), I mowed the lawn, I ironed fifteen
assorted shirts and blouses whilst watching Mad Max 2; a film which
wasn’t anything like as good as I remembered it. I went up the road
to the costume shop to get a Venetian mask for an upcoming bash. And
had it all finished by mid-afternoon. I toyed with the idea of
getting my paints out, but the muse wasn’t upon me. So I mucked
about going through my old files. A few days I mentioned about
holidays I’ve had in Canada. I know I wrote diaries at the time. I
can’t find them anywhere.
After a few minutes (!)
playing silly on-line games Chip arrived and we set off to Folkestone
where six of us (and a dog) had a particularly good few hands
of poker. We haven't played cards for ages: really must do it more
often....
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