Mangos and Milk

Everything hurt this morning. I think it was all that bloody bike riding. Teach me for getting cocky with Mr S.

Or is it my lousy mattress? I must think about buying a new one. I always wanted a futon, but the osteopath said they weren't that good.

"No, they aren't especially," said Bruiser. "You know the Japanese don't put them on slatted bases."

Yes, I did know that.

I walked to the super market and bought mangoes and milk. A lovely meander on a sunny morning to cure what ails you. Track suit pants and a t-shirt, my pj's but nobody in the supermarket needed to know that.

I should have worn my dressing gown over the top, I though, as the "enter gate" opened for me.

I wanted to prepare breakfast for Sam, instead of always heading out to a cafe on Sunday morning. Muesli and orange juice and coffee and then freshly cut up mango. Lovely. And a lap-top each for the news.