Well, That's That

It's a public holiday today, the day before the footy grand final. Grrr!

I was going to go join up at the gym, but it's not attended by staff on a public holiday.

Oh, I am so slack. Can you believe it, all the days I could have gone and joined up, any other fucken day truthfully, and I leave it to the last minute when it is some bogan public holiday.

Damn it!

I so often need the pressure of the 'last minute' to get me to do stuff. I have always been like that. I need some pressure greater than me to prompt me into action, otherwise I just let things pass.

I can go tomorrow, of course, and I guess I will have to. Go on the weekend, it's not ideal when I have days off during the week.

Really, I am so fucken slack.

It was a glorious day today, it sparkled. We ran the dogs down by the river. It was really lovely to be out in it with no pressure to do anything else. I love the lack of pressure to do anything, it is invigorating. 

I was going to go for a bike ride, since I haven't done a second workout for the week, but guess what I did instead? I bet you can't guess?

I slept on the couch with Brun cuddled up to my back like a hot water bottle. Girl gym trainer will be pleased.

I woke up just in time to catch the 6pm misery hour. Good job, Christian.

Brun got the all clear at the vet yesterday. He and I are now in bed together. Sam is downstairs watching Aqua Man. All those super hero movies are just shit, I can't watch them. I don't even think Jason Momoa is anything special, certainly nothing to look at. But, you know, I'm sure he probably thinks the same about me. Chuckle.

Off To The Doggie Eye Doctor

I'm off to the doggie eye doctor today with Brun. His eyes are better, the problem all seems to be cleared up, so good job to my favourite doggie eye doctor.

And now it seems like an awfully long trip out to the outer suburbs to have her say, "Yes, they look fine. $250 please."

But, that is what you do, they?

Just my contribution to the 33 billion, or so, dollars Australian's spend on their pets each year.

And I could only get a really early appointment, as I like doing these things in the morning to get them done, so we have to leave really early to get there on time.

45 minutes to get there, I guess that isn't so long, depending on the traffic. Brun loves a car trip, though, so, I guess, it isn't total waste of time. Ha ha.

Anyway, just enough time for Vegemite toast before I go.

That is all I have to do today, so I guess I can't complain too much. 9.30am my day should be done.

Up Early Hump day

I get up early, it is still dark. Brun gets up with me and pads down the stairs behind me.

I make coffee. Brun lies out in his super dog pose in the middle of the lounge room.

I take my coffee and I sign into work when it is still 5 something. Okay, it was 5.59am, but still 5 something. Brun comes and climbs up on the study couch and resumes his sleep. He didn't want to go outside, like I suspected he did. 

I answer a few emails. I wonder if the people I email ever see the time I email and wonder why the hell I am doing work at that time? I don't care. Are people even that observant?

Milo comes into the study and glares at Brun on the couch, as if he is willing him to evaporate. He lies out on the carpet and close his eyes.

The day turns light suddenly after 6am. Funny how that has happened when you look up.

I get my emails done, and rejig a couple of spreadsheets. Then I am done until the rest of the company wakes up and logs on.

I open the online news to see what misery has befallen the world.

I contemplate another coffee.

It's quiet. I like getting up early for precisely that reason, not that I have any control over the time I wake up, I just wake up early now a days. I love the stillness of seemingly being the only person moving in my world.

The birds sing outside.

I think of Miss Vic in hospital and the rain starts to fall. Is the world outside responding to my thoughts? I think the birds even stopped singing. I see them in my head with their wings across their chests and their heads bowed.

Brun lets out a snore.

I open my own laptop and write this.

Last Day Together

It is my last day of supervised gym work. We did a lot of increased weights to test the limits of what I could do. I can always lift heavier weights, it would seem.

At the end of the session, I thank girl gym trainer for all she's done. We will keep in contact because the program goes on even without us meeting. There is supervision by an app, remotely as I get the gym work happening on my own.

We have that fleetingly awkward moment when our last second together arrives and we freeze for that millisecond where we think we should do something, oh I don't know, embrace, be thankful over again, have some sort of acknowledgement but neither of us really knows what, then we turn and we walk away and that is done.

I felt kind of sad riding my bike home in the sun shine. The trees waved over head as I cycled through the park. The sky was blue, the sun shone. It was a good day, I thought.

Monday

I message Adriana for her birthday. It is a big one. But, she is in Bali partying and she doesn't care what milestone she is passing.

Partying in Bali, that's Adriana for you.

I wish we were all parting again. Dancing on podiums in Sydney. Dancing under the mirror ball at warehouse parties in Melbourne.

I wish Fergus and Steve and Tom and Anthony were still alive and we were all partying together.

I just heard about another friend, the incredible Victoria Brown, in St Vincents in palliative care with terminal cancer. I'd go visit her, I am just up the road, but she doesn't want to see anyone, going away like an elephant to die, I guess. I can understand. There will never be another like her, they broke the mould with Victoria Brown.

So, that is very sad.

I make coffee and contemplate the meaning of life.

I think coffee is as good a meaning as anything.

Life is coffee. I like it.

Miss Vic would say to Adriana, Have one last dance for me.

Sunday Bike Rides and Dog Walks and a Spot of Lunch

I wake up with a dry mouth. I must have been breathing through my mouth as I slept?

What was I dreaming? No, I'm thinking about how dry my mouth is, and the dream is gone, like grabbing water in my hands. It woke me up though, the dry mouth, not the dream.

6am. I was up. It was dark in the loungeroom still at 6am. I didn’t want to turn on the light because the lights are too bright, you know, first thing. Let’s hope no one gets up and gets startled by not seeing me sitting here initially.

Metabolism and diet are linked to root of bipolar depression, say researchers. Illness could be treated as a physical, rather than mood, disorder, according to scientists in Edinburgh.

Not all men, but a lot of them: will Gisele Pelicot rape trial finally change France’s attitude to sexual abuse?

6.30am. I thought, I started watching the shorter Friday addition of Coldwarmotors, but I actually stared watching the longer Sunday version.

Oh, it is Sunday, I think. Then I wasn’t sure what day I thought it was?

7.40am. Brun wanders into the lounge room.

He gets up on the couch with me as I continue to watch YouTube

7.45am. Sam and Otto wander into the lounge room. Otto briefly chases Milo. Sam tells him off.

8am. I make Vegemite toast and coffee.

8.30am. I watch the shorter Coldwarmotors from Thursday which I hadn’t watch.

9am. I go for a bike ride. I am expected to go. Girl trainer will be pleased. Of course, I should go for reasons beyond such expectation.

9:07am. I’ll leave for my bike ride. The sun comes out.

Napier Street > Edinburgh Gardens > Park Street > Royal Park > Dynon Road.

There are so many people walking their dogs in Edinburgh Gardens and along Park Street and in Royal Park.

9.40am. I’m at Dynon Road. The sun is shining as I stop for a moment. I realise they have built a whole new off/on ramp right across where I used to stop at Dynon Road.

I turn for home. Of course, I play a game of Would I Suck You Off with all the joggers jogging towards me. It starts off as definite no’s. No, No. No. No. But then suddenly, it is all yes'es.

There are lots of people with golf carts around Royal Park Train Station, getting in the way, taking up the whole pathway.

10:18am. I’m home again. Otto is excited to see me. He leaps about in his unrestrained puppy way. It’s really lovely. Another living creature showing unrestrained happiness.

The sun is shining.

I have a shower.

I sit on the couch with Otto.

12:03pm. What are you doing come on? Let’s go what are you doing down there… my dictation catches me again, even before I start talking. 

We take the dogs for a walk to The Hive.

It’s overcast with rain, clouds and kind of windy and cool.

We meet up with a Boston terrier as we walk down Victoria Parade, with which, of course, Otto wants to play. Brun takes little notice after a cursory nose sniff. The Boston’s owner says the Boston is a puppy too.

12.30pm. We’re at the Vietnamese eatery. 118 Victoria Street Richmond. We sit outside on the tables on the footpath.

The sun is shining. It is hot sitting in it. I take my hoodie off.

12.38pm. The sun goes away. It is such a spring day. I might have to put my hoodie back on.

Matt calls me to say Victoria Brown is in palliative care in St Vincent’s with terminal cancer spread right through her. She doesn’t want to see anyone, but she’d like those she was closest to, to know.

I breath out long and slow after the phone call. That is very sad. I take a moment to think about her. Life will seem just that little bit smaller without her in it.

Sam looks around, just as the nutter drops his groceries onto the ground, pulls the bedspread over his shoulders like a cape and walks up to the front wall of the Hive and starts yelling at it as if it is a person.

I see a Mercedes with a BMW numberplate. It makes me chuckle.

There is a big, rough looking guy in a brown hoodie – is it brown, or is it just dirty? I’m not sure – sitting on the tram stop seats. Another guy comes along, who looks like a Chinese spiritual guy with a crinkly beard that looks like it has been ironed flat. He sits next to the big rough guy. Moments later, the Chinese guru pulls something from his pocket and hands it to the big, rough guy, who fiddles about with it surreptitiously before sliding it away into his pocket. The Chinese guy gets up and quietly walks away. The big, rough guy gets up not long after and also walks away.

12.51pm. I’m sleepy sitting in the sun. I’ve been really sleepy lately, I wonder what that is about?

1.43pm. Brun, Otto and I are in the entrance to The Hive.

Some old bitch is standing in the entrance to The Hive with me and Brun and Otto with her phone on loud loudspeaker yapping away to some fucker. I so want to tell her to shut the fuck up, well, to take her phone off loud speaker.

1:46 pm. Sam reappears and we crossed Nicholson Street and sit outside Minh Phat. Would you stop getting twisted up in your fucking lead what is wrong with you... my dictation catches me out again.

1.51pm. Sam reappears.

We walk home with grocery bags over each shoulder.

2.15pm. We’re home.

I call Mark and tell him about Victoria Brown. Mark is not well himself at the moment, but we have a laugh.

I do the Facebook thing collecting historic photos. I get lost in that for a while, longer than I intended.

I watch Tasty Classics and his Ford Granada.

5.30pm. We eat yogurt and blueberries for an arvo snack. The day is quickly drawing to a close. Monday morning is rushing up quick.

We ate curry for dinner. It was very nice. I don’t eat the rice, Sam isn’t too pleased about that. Shrug.

We watched The Amazing Race. The Matilda’s are awful to watch. Humourless and serious. How many times have they said they are elite athletes? Over and over. Yes, we get it, you are elite athletes. How many times have they said they hate losing? Hey girls, nobody likes losing? They are just awful to watch, such blokes.

We watched 60 Minutes and flight SQ321. It is a very sad story. The lawyers are trying their hardest to make Singapore airlines responsible, you know, like lawyers do.

Sam wants to re-start the modem, and 60 minutes is dragging out the plane turbulence story until we are starting to look to our laptops and ipads for relief, so we turn the TV off.

Then we do screens.

10.15pm. We go to bed.

I looked at images of Robert Fuller. The actor. He's one of those actors I remember from my past who made me take a second look, if you know what I mean.

10.38pm. Lights out.

That is Sunday done. That is the weekend done.

Lazy Saturday

I only remember the end of my dream, the part where I woke up. ex-bitch-girlfriend, Leah Borg, locked herself in my place, getting in the shower and ignoring me and not letting me in. (I am unsure why she keeps turning up in my dreams?) As I was standing on the very steep steps to my door, which just bought me up to the bottom of my front door, I knocked on the door with my phone, which popped open at the top and I could see that she had taken the sim card out of my phone.

5am. I got up and had a wee, that developed into an early morning shit the way it does only when I am taking Ozempic.

I got back into bed, but the lovely thoughts wouldn’t come, only the negative thoughts and I didn’t fall back to sleep. It isn’t nice to feel like a failure.

5.25am. I got up.

I made coffee.

Milo and I sat on the couch together. Milo is warm against my left leg.

A monster: lawyers for Mohamed Al Fayed’s alleged victims liken case to Jimmy Savile. Barristers acting for 37 women announce intention to bring civil case against Harrods over late owner’s alleged abuse.

Rapper Shyne says former mentor Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs ‘destroyed’ his life. Belize’s House opposition leader Moses Barrow ‘takes no joy in anyone’s challenges’ after recent charges.

Axing negative gearing won’t cause a rental crisis. Here’s the maths. When an investor outbids an owner-occupier, they do add to the supply of rental houses – but that’s only half the story.

I watch a lot of anti Trump YouTube until I was sick of hearing about him. He really is like passing a car wreck, you can’t help but look.

I watch Mr cutie pants Rocky Dale Davis standup. He is one, big, hoy boy. Just sexy as.

7.35am. Sick of YouTube, I start reading A Thousand Miles From Care. I have always felt it was a heartbreaking story.

Milo jumps back up on the couch and cuddles up in my blanket, nestling on the blanket between my legs.

8am. Brun was up. Milo jumps down off the couch and runs off. He hears the bulldogs before I do, but I guess he needs to the way the two of them bully him.

8.15am. Sam and Otto were up.

8.30am. I make Vegemite toast and coffee.

I continue reading A Thousand Miles From Care. Ah Scott...

9.45am. I make more coffee.

Sam heads into the study with Otto.

There was a lot of lying on the couch and looking at my laptop first up. News online. YouTube. You know the goings on.

Man arrested in Italy nearly 50 years after two Melbourne women found dead in their home. Victoria police seeking an extradition order for the 65-year-old over the 1977 deaths known as the Easey Street murders.

The great unsolved murder could finally be solved, wow.

I read for most of the day, A Thousand Miles from Care, curled up on the couch with my kindle, and Brun and Otto too.

We ate noodles for lunch.

2:19pm. We take the dogs for a walk. The day is kind of warm. The sky is overcast and grey. We stand on the corner of our street. The wind blows around us.

“What are we doing?”

“Fitzroy Gardens?”

“Nyr.”

“Carlton Gardens?”

“Yes.”

We walked to the Carlton Gardens, once around the park. It was nice, the day cheered up for us as we took our walk.

There was some great huge wedding happening in the middle of the park, with food that didn’t look nearly adequate enough for the number of people present. 

I wondered how long before they get divorced. 8 years is the average, apparently. I thought it would be shorter. But what about marriages with inadequate food at the reception, I wondered?

Then it was home down Moor Street > St David Street > across Fitzroy.

3:18pm. We’re home again.

I read A Thousand Miles from Care until I was sleepy and I slept on the couch, again. I have done a lot of sleeping on the couch just lately. I guess, it is kind of nice really, and I shouldn’t question it. What the hell?

I woke at some point during the 6pm news, but fell asleep again.

I woke at 7.30pm and we ate pizza from Ladro. Capricciosa and a mushroom lovers.

We watched Shaun Micallef's On the Eve Of destruction. Pia Miranda and Zachary Ruane. Humphrey B. Bear and Pia’s grandmothers church book and a collection of Empire magazines and the art work from the first play Zack directed.

I usually find Pia Miranda annoying. A bit of a try hard.

We watched Have You Been Paying Attention, Robert Irwin hosting. Against type, I think Robert Irwin is a cutie. Yes, I’d like to see him in his undies. And yes, also a bit of a try hard.

I watched Vice Grip Garage and his De Tomaso Pantera which had sat for 33 years. Nice red colour. Derek makes me laugh, and isn't that as good a reason to watch something.

10.30pm. Sam and Brun went to bed.

I kept watching Vice Grip Garage and his De Tomaso Pantera, but I kept falling asleep.

12.40am. I’d just woken up again when Sam called to say Brun was on his way downstairs. Brun arrived downstairs moments later. He had a wee, Otto had a wee & a poo and they both went to bed.

1am. I finished watching Vice Grip Garage and his De Tomaso Pantera. Truthfully, I had fallen asleep on the couch yet again and I had to back track to see the end of the video.

1.15am. I went to bed.

I forgot to spray my nose, I think just as I am comfortable. Damn it.

Heal Little Plant

I picked up this plant in the street. Someone had pulled it from its pot/garden bed and tossed it into the gutter.

Sam thought I was weird. "Oh, just leave it there. Why do you want that?"

I didn't really want it. It isn't really an unusual plant. 

But, I just couldn't leave it lying there, all folded over and shrivelling up exposed to the sun and the elements, dehydrating to death.

It didn't cost me anything, it took me minutes, at the most, to put it in a pot and give it some water. I already had the succulent soil ready to go.

It was all floppy and bent over, with its leaves - whatever you call a succulent's leafy bits - drooping down, but look at it now.

I don't know, it felt like a good deed, saving a living thing. Maybe that is crazy?

Rainy Gym Day Curled Up With A Book... er, Kindle.

I was fucked after my gym work out today. Girl trainer pushed me hard on the exercise bike with the resistance pumped right up to double figures. Boy trainer, back from holidays, supervised.

Today was supposed to be my last supervised session, but girl trainer said we had to do tests, or data, or something, still, so I now have one more session next week. 

I was happy for today to be the last session.

I am joining a gym close to home, and I must get around to that rather than just talking about it, so I should be able to keep up the sessions on my own.

That's the theory anyway. Ha ha. No, not the theory, it is what I am going to do. 

I've lost weight. I feel healthier. It is good.

I lay on the couch when I got home and read A Thousand Miles From Care, a book about a gay hate crime in the late 80s, specifically about Scott Johnston the brilliant mathematician who changed the world of mathematics only to be thrown from a cliff by a homophobic low life. I haven't been reading so much lately, I have been taking up my time watching essentially brain rot YouTube. It's nice to read again.

My legs were tired, in the afternoon when Sam wanted to take the dogs for a walk. Well, it had just been raining, and I reckoned it was going to rain again, so I told Sam to take the dogs on his own. He wasn't so pleased.

I can't remember if it rained again, or not.

Bad Christian

Sam has one of his rare days in the office. He leaves home at 8.20am.

So, 8.25am. I am ready to head to the bakery to get some cake, but Brun decides he wants to go for a walk outside. He and Otto are at the front door when I go to leave for the bakery, noses together as if they are discussing some conspiracy.

So, I get Brun's lead and harness and I lead him outside into the glorious sunshine, but instead of waking he just stands there.

"Oh come on, I say. "Either walk, or I am going to the bakery." He just stands and gazes back at me. If he'd shrugged, I wouldn't have been surprised.

"Did you and Otto conspire to stop me going to the bakery?"

Brun looks away, I think I catch a guilty look on his face.

"Well?" I say. I wait, but he keeps looking in the other direction.

A woman walks past saying, "Isn't he adorable."

"Isn't he," I say.

"Well, I say.

But Brun doesn't look at me.

So, I wait for a few minutes and then I head back inside. Brun follows, slowly, sniffing everything on his way. I want to give him a push, but anyone who has bulldogs knows they can't be hurried along.

Not long after, I am at the bakery getting the last coffee scroll, after an apparent rush on them this morning.

Of course, I butter it when I get home. Fuck it. Lashing of butter. I make more coffee, naturally. I sit and enjoy both. 

Riding My Bike

I can't tell you how happy I am to ride my bike around the city.

Last night leaving the gym, the main road in front of the gym was unusually banked right back with one great line of traffic at a stand still. Car drives were unsuccessfully trying to jockey for a better position, but there was no where for them to go. Some of the 4WDs were illegally mounting the centre tramway strip and doing U-turns, but really the other side was only marginally better.

I don't know what had gone wrong with the traffic. Shrug.

It's moments like these you realise how mean employers are making workers go back to the office. You think govts would be encouraging work from home to alleviate peak hour traffic congestion.

I peddled casually out between the stationary cars, crossed over the road to the park, and peddled through the serenity of the green grass under the gorgeous trees, with the sun shining down on me.

Lovely.

The Bloated Orange Criminal

Who thinks that Donald Jessica Trump is doing so badly in the election that he organised his own assignation attempt?

Trump is such a low life that it is exactly the thing he would do, you know anything, to give him a bump in the polls.

Hitler is in the Berlin bunker, it is the last days of the 3rd Reich and consequently, he would do anything, even con a mentally deranged man who will risk going to jail for life. Eggs. Omelet's.

Wet Weekend

It's raining. I'm lying on the couch. Fuck it, the weekend already feels like a right off. I'm staying indoors.

It's my birthday. What shit weather for my birthday.

Brun is cuddled up next to me on the couch keeping me warm so, you know, I hate that. Ha ha. I'm watching car shows on YouTube, and Brun is snuggled up to my left side snoring away like a snoring hot water bottle. And I am keeping him warm too, of course.

Not an unpleasant way to spend the weekend.

The rain keeps falling outside.

I hope everything the roof guys did yesterday has dried before the rain fell on it. I guess it has. I guess I should think positively and think it is a good opportunity to check the leaks are fixed before I pay the bill? Oh yes, that’s very sensible.

Getting The Roof Fixed

The roof guys have been fixing the roof for two days. All done today, apparently. They are two not unattractive brothers up above the kitchen clomping about.

One of them, I think the younger one - they are both in the 30s so younger older doesn't really mean a lot, just a fact - is really very cute. He's really taken with the bulldogs and he is really gorgeous with them when he's down at their level patting them and just being a cute human being.

I even heard him saying to his brother how he'd got to say hello to Brun and Otto. They replaced the sky light in the kitchen roof, so a lot of the time it was open to the air and I could hear what they were saying.

And no more leaks. 

It is my beloved Great Aunt's birthday. I always think of her fondly on this day

Going To The Doctor

I took Brun to the eye doctor. He's got ointment and pills to try and fix his eye problem.

Out to the outer south eastern suburbs by 3.30pm, a 45 minute drive. Not my ideal choice of appointment time, I'd much rather do such a trek - to foreign territory - in the morning.

And I tell you what, the traffic for the drive home was horrendous. The freeway on which we came out was a carpark heading back into the city at 4.30pm. So, Brun and I continued on right across the outer easter suburbs to the northern side to take the other freeway back into town. We live in the northern inner suburbs so it makes no real difference where we drive across the city, out there, or in close. 

That drive across the outer eastern suburbs was really really heavy with traffic, but for the most part it kept moving, even though the road was heaving with cars.

Is this what the commute is like for all these people every day? I tell you what, if I had to do that I'd be chucking a rope over a tree branch, erm, ah, well, I just wouldn't be doing it. Work from home, that is what I say.

There was a report recently that calculated that workers have saved 85 billion dollars since they all started working from home. Hello? That is why we don't want to go back.

We made it home in just a fraction over an hour, so really that wasn't so bad.

Back To Normal

And my weekend starts. Oh, it is so nice to be back to a normal week. Not that it was hard working 5 days, but two days off isn't much. The weekend is so short that way.

It is good that Boris is back. She had a nice time while she was away, so that is the main thing. Good for her. And you know, I almost mean that. Ha ha. No, I do. If you can fake sincerity, you will go far in life.

I haven't joined a gym. I haven't even looked into it. But those things don't take all that long, do they? No. I have a gym in mind, the one closest to home. What other criteria is there? Now, I just have to go and enquire. So, I have a week to get my shit together. They used to make you do tests, back when I used to go to the gym. I wonder if they still do?

Anyway, now I get to do all those things that I'd normally do on my days off. To start with, I am taking Brun to the eye doctor tomorrow, way out in the outer suburbs, so there is something that will get done, crossed off the list, as they say.

The roofing man is finally coming tomorrow too, so that's a good thing too. What did he say in the beginning? He'd be here in 8 weeks. And I think that was in April. Good old tradies, huh?

I poured with rain today, though, so we'll see if it rains tomorrow.

So, that will be crossed off the list too.

Now, for that Tattslotto win, you know, so I can cross that off the list too. 😄

Tuesday Gym Day

Okay, off to the gym for the afternoon.

Apparently, this is the last week, maybe second last week, of my personal trainer.

It's a 12 week program, but only the first 6 weeks is supervised.

After that, I'm on my own, to exercise for the remaining 6 weeks, whatever it is, which my trainers will supervise from afar, through an app, of course.

I have to decide to do it for myself, that is the idea behind all of this.

So, I must get ready, wish me luck.

Bowie's Final Albums

I've been listening to a lot of David Bowie recently. Young Americans, Station to Station, Lodger, Black Star, The Next Day.

I've tried to like Black Star, I really have, his final masterpiece, people say. I've tried to like it. Just give it another listen, I've been saying to myself.

I have to say, I much prefer The Next Day to Black Star. The Next Day has some great songs on it and is exciting. Black Star, not so much. It's more like an ambient ode to death, not so exciting really, as Bowie takes his final breath, that's what I think.

One of the greatest to ever live. I will never stop listening to his music.

Sunday

I fertilised all of my indoor plants, it being spring and all. Winter is over people. I've been meaning to do it for days, but have been too lazy, and too weak to pull my sorry arse away from online screen time. Its a sad indictment... on the world, really.

The wind returned as did the rain. Still, we managed an hour of walking with the dogs in the park snatching some sunshine. The park was busy, lots of people, all rushing out the door while the sun shined, I guess.

It was my brother's birthday, so I rang him and wished him a lovely day. We have one of our two phone calls per year. His birthday, and my birthday. 

We generally catch up in person at Xmas.

I got sick of myself and YouTube, so I read for the afternoon, breaking out my Kindle. I read A Thousand Miles From Care: A Hunt For A Brother's Killer. The death of Scott Johnson, the gay, American maths genius.

And then it is the end of the weekend and Monday looms large again. Reading is lovely, I forget how much when I don't do it and then I do it again.

And that's it, the weekend is done.

 

The bulldogs flat out after the walk home from lunch. The tiled floor cool on their tummies.

We ate Japanese Curry for dinner.

After the misery hour, we turn the teev off.

Sam keeps researching new coffee machines.

I lie on the floor and listen to David Bowie. Lodger, followed by Station to Station, followed by Young Americans.