Archive for January, 2006

decisions, decisions

Tuesday, January 31st, 2006 | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

I’ve decided, I want a iBook. I’ve been debating on laptops for a good six months now and I’ve dithered from PC to Mac over and over again, with people advising me on both sides. But I’ve finally decided. iBook it is.

I think.

Or perhaps I’m still not sure.

Decisions, decisions…

wanted: one adventure

Thursday, January 26th, 2006 | Uncategorized | 1 Comment

This afternoon I quite fancy an adventure. It has been a while since anything one could call adventurous has happened to me, now I have a distinct longing. Unfortunately I have a niggling feeling that adventures are not events that one can just pop out and purchase; “Shop-keep, find me an adventure!” They are the sort of events that just happen, when you least expect it, whilst you’re hoovering or mowing the lawn or something equally domestic and dull.

The most adventurous thing that happened to me today is my left shoe falling off. I have a suspicion that it is slightly too big, so I’ve folded my sock over and over my heel which seems to have done the trick. You see, that isn’t adventurous at all. In fact, it’s not even worth mentioning, and I now feel slightly silly for having done so.

I don’t really mind what sort of adventure I have, it could be swashbuckling, romantic, daring, the list could go on and on. What concerns me most is that an afternoon without meetings, a free afternoon with just my lonesome in-tray, should pass without even the slightest wiff of adventure. What a shameful waste.

sunshine, glorious sunshine

Friday, January 20th, 2006 | Uncategorized | No Comments

Today is turning out to be a splendid day and I put it down to one simple thing: sunshine. Without it, we all mope about, tired and depressed but not today. As I stomped around Stanmer Park at lunch time, I noticed the number of fellow stompers had grown dramatically. There seemed to be hundreds of us, lapping up the rays as our feet walked through the mud.

This afternoon I shall go home, cheery and chilled, to crack open the gin and welcome in the weekend. It’s good to be awake again, basking in the glow.

soft boiled

Thursday, January 19th, 2006 | Uncategorized | No Comments

I’m having one of those weeks when my brain feels like a soft boiled egg. Every morning I wake up and feel as if I haven’t slept at all. My usual two cups of coffee slip down but don’t even shake the sleepiness and I find I’ve mislaid all signs of intelligence, having probably left them by the sink. I plod through the day, unsure if whether anything I do is correct, but crossing my fingers and smiling. By the time I get home I’m bedraggled and confused, I mutter to the cats and cross my fingers that the next morning I’ll be myself once more.

I have decided that the cure for this soft boiled brain is gin and tonic and sunshine. There’s nothing like lying back in the sun against soft green grass, with an iced gin and tonic. I’d like to be listening to Madeline Peyroux, feet tapping softly and sunglasses shielding the bright light. In the distance I would be able to smell trout cooking on the barbeque, with the promise of freshly picked strawberries and cream. Bliss. Oh for spring, oh for summer, oh for gin!

bill’s best beginning

Sunday, January 15th, 2006 | Uncategorized | No Comments

Yesterday morning I got up at eight and strolled into town for breakfast at Bill’s. It didn’t take me long to decide that breakfast at Bill’s is the best beginning to any day. I ate gorgeous scrambled eggs with smoked salmon on delicious home made bread and drank a delectable, creamy latte. I wrote notes for myself in my moleskine, and on looking up found myself surrounded by kindred spirits, moleskines out, heads down, coffees steaming.

After breakfast I took a turn around the town, before driving out to Newick for my Grandfather’s birthday party. It was a lovely afternoon of food and conversation. I took special delight in the story of my meeting with Simon Button, a friend of my uncle James. At a very tender age, and literally knee high, I was introduced to Simon who stood at over six foot two in his stockinged feet. My eyes raised from floor level, my head tilting further and further back until I eventually fell over backwards. I’m not sure my eyes ever reached his face.

I drove home in the dark, before curling up on the sofa with a bottle of red wine to finish the day in comfort. A perfect end to a perfect day.


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