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Ah, 'tis a wonderful thing, a day off. You know the rest of the world is working and you aren't. It's better than weekends and such just for that reason. I think I like a Wednesday off better than a Friday overall, but on the whole, Fridays will do. Especially as once it is all over, I have the weekend to come.
Fantastic.
Yesterday morning there had appeared outside in the High Road a Continental Market the sort of place that sells odd cheeses, sausages, cakes and carved doo-dads and gew-gaws of uncertain but woody goodness. By the time I got home at 8 last evening, the stalls had all gone. I knew they would be packed up, but they usually stay a day or two, so I was disappointed.
It rained last night, quite heavily. Like desert plants, the stalls must have seeded and sprouted quickly in the wet. This morning they were all back but with yellow tarpaulins protecting them. Thus I have bought sundry French cheeses and cakes. These will be eaten later with a rather nice Bo-Jolly (or something) selected by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
ellefurtle in Waitrose, and a baguette from the very same establishment.
I am now content to lounge around for most of the rest of the day, poking my head into the computer room from time to time to yell Raus! Mach schnell! and other miscellaneous comments at the aforementioned Furtle who is busy doing clever things to her thesis. Before that, however, I have a couple of icons to make.
On an unrelated and sad note, I found out this morning fromromney's journal, that a woman we both knew about ten years ago, Jas, erstwhile landlady of the Manor Arms in Clapham was murdered last month in Swansea. Possibly by her husband, Steve, whom we also knew. Very sad. She was a lovely lady and deserved far, far better.
Finally and more upbeat, I have been instructed to write, "something nice about (my) wonderful girlfriend", so there you have it. I have written just that. Time for more lounging, I think.
Fantastic.
Yesterday morning there had appeared outside in the High Road a Continental Market the sort of place that sells odd cheeses, sausages, cakes and carved doo-dads and gew-gaws of uncertain but woody goodness. By the time I got home at 8 last evening, the stalls had all gone. I knew they would be packed up, but they usually stay a day or two, so I was disappointed.
It rained last night, quite heavily. Like desert plants, the stalls must have seeded and sprouted quickly in the wet. This morning they were all back but with yellow tarpaulins protecting them. Thus I have bought sundry French cheeses and cakes. These will be eaten later with a rather nice Bo-Jolly (or something) selected by
ellefurtle in Waitrose, and a baguette from the very same establishment. I am now content to lounge around for most of the rest of the day, poking my head into the computer room from time to time to yell Raus! Mach schnell! and other miscellaneous comments at the aforementioned Furtle who is busy doing clever things to her thesis. Before that, however, I have a couple of icons to make.
On an unrelated and sad note, I found out this morning from
romney's journal, that a woman we both knew about ten years ago, Jas, erstwhile landlady of the Manor Arms in Clapham was murdered last month in Swansea. Possibly by her husband, Steve, whom we also knew. Very sad. She was a lovely lady and deserved far, far better.Finally and more upbeat, I have been instructed to write, "something nice about (my) wonderful girlfriend", so there you have it. I have written just that. Time for more lounging, I think.
