Lunch out with friends. Sharing good news. A really interesting discussion about John the Baptist.
My brain is coming back! Slowly, but it’s on the way. I have been reading things. I have been writing things. I have been watching things.
It’s just as well that I’ve been working from home all week, because I’ve been collapsing into bed as soon as I clock off. I’m a bit worried about how I’m going to cope next week.
The difficult and perplexing
I’m becoming increasingly aware that for my next trick I need to become much better at delegating. But at this stage I’m still very much in the ‘it’ll only take five minutes; might as well do it myself’ phase, and delegating (and chasing the people I’ve delegated to) is also work. Improvement needed.
Going for the easy option. Zoom rather than a dash to the South (this is tomorrow but I’m already glad I’m not taking a train to Guildford). Lunch in the pub that is nearest. And so on.
Lady B- is back! And I’ve just started Snow Ball (Brigid Brophy): cynical and scintillating.
Most of an interview for my alma mater, and a little more on the blog about the Belgian Coastal Tramway. Coming soon. I hope.
I got the darning loom out again and mended holes in: my favourite navy Guernsey jumper; one of Tony’s long-sleeved T-shirts; a pyjama top.
Charade: a self-consciously silly caper film starring Audrey Hepburn and the Parisian urban transit network. Mostly the Métro, but there was an excellent moment where Cary Grant leapt onto the back of a bus, as is entirely correct. I guessed the solution of the mystery quite early on, but there were plenty of other twists to keep me amused.
Continuing with Detectorists. I also started Our Flag Means Death. I’d been rather put off by hype backlash (a constant weakness of mine) and the earnestness of the fandom discourse, but it turns out to be delightfully silly (as well as Good Queer Rep and, what I hadn’t heard so much about, a clever commentary on the place of pirates in popular culture). I continue to get earwormed by the Horrible Histories Blackbeard song.
An extremely bland and comforting tuna pasta bake. And then the thing with pearl barley, chorizo and kale (the only way to make kale interesting that I have yet discovered).
Today at the pub I had a chickpea curry (forgettable) followed by peach tarte tatin (very nice).
It feels rather depressing to be noting what used to be my standard morning walk as an incident of record, but there we go.
This afternoon I was taught to play Bears vs Babies. Rather fun.
In the garden
The squirrel has discovered the peanut feeder. I shall rearrange the feeders and leave the nuts out of it for a bit.
Intelligent theological conversation. Friends. Being able to nap.
Merino wool long johns in the Mountain Warehouse sale. Will it get cold enough again to wear them? We shall see.
Line of the week
Almost every line of The Snow Ball has been quotable. What about:
He was short, and hollowed out by middle age; and his sporran leapt hectically, leapt breathlessly, up and down, not keeping time with the lighter leaps of his jabot.
The beach was a generous sweep of pale sand, scattered with seashells. I thought about paddling, but decided against it. The sea was quite a way out, and the wind was cold.
This coming week
Four days in the office. Will I manage to stay awake? And will I get the hang of the (heretofore unmentioned) Instant Pot? Stay tuned!
Anything you’d like to share from this week? Any hopes for next week? Share them here!