It Was Hot, 35 degrees

I woke up late. Sam was up working on his computer when I got down stairs. He had some work programming problem he was having trouble solving.

We were supposed to be heading out for breakfast, oh well. I slept late on a Saturday, so shoot me.

It was hot, 35 degrees. I didn't want to leave the house.

We ate lunch at our favourite Japanese restaurant in Carlton. I wanted to ride bikes, but Sam said I was mad and that we needed air-conditioning. We went shopping for clocks afterwards, for Sam, in Fitzroy. 

The cool change blew up Johnson Street, lovely. 

Sam as he has been suffering badly from hay fever, poor baby, so antihistamines were on the shopping list. He always forgets them, hands in the air. We went to the supermarket to get supplies and dinner ingredients to make Jamie Oliver’s 30 minute curry. I have to cook occasionally, apparently, and Shane bought me Oliver's cook book for Xmas, pointedly. Of course, I wanted to stick the recipe, being a Virgo and all, and Sam wanted to improvise, grrrr, but it turned out fine in the end.

Shane was going to be home with a mystery guest for dinner, who turned out to be Kevin Bart, the camp old thing. I haven't seen him for ages, we call him mother. And suddenly I was cooking for an unprepared guest. Oo, ah. But, he said he liked it.