Bull dogs are lovely, I just thought I'd say that.
Randy Crawford sings, the coffee is bitter, just how I like it. I'm writing stuff, my muesli is comforting. And my bulldog lays against my left thigh, like a hot water bottle, on a woollen blanket, snoring contentedly.
I've got a huge tray of lasagne, which I made last night, in a tray in the fridge.
I've got nothing on all day. I thought I did, work training, 9.30am this morning. I was up at 6am to discover that the training was yesterday. Oops! I never make such mistakes.
So I have nothing to do all day. Lovely. A have to clean the kitchen, dishes, pots, pans, woks, everything and feed Buddy, that is my minimum daily requirement. The morning sun is shining in through the window.
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