Rainy Sunday

Fairly grim outside, so staying in as long as possible before venturing out into town. Thinking about mixing up the packet of Betty Crocker’s chocolate brownies in the cupboard. But too much effort.

Our local paper shop proprietors have what they think is a hilarious quip that they make every time I go in there: they try to put my stuff in a blue plastic bag, I stop them, and they say ‘oh, Guardian reader!’ and snigger. Bless them for having their fingers on the pulse of the zeitgeist and also never getting bored of the same joke. I love it, me.

Rose is having trouble coming to terms with the change to British winter time and is sleeping heavily while trying to adjust. I’m rubbing my hands together at the thought that she might start going to bed at about 7pm so leaving me and Jason with the entire evening to converse. Ha ha only joking, of course I mean surf the internet and watch tv.


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