Weeza and Zerlina are here today. I’ve got a little film to put up later, don’t let me forget…
In the end, I decided to go to London a bit later in the day and come home later, so I’ll arrive about 1 pm and leave at 8. After I’ve been to the flat I’ll get a bus to Trafalgar Square and, if the queue isn’t too awful (or tickets sold out), I’ll go to the Picasso exhibition which starts tomorrow, fortuitously. I’m going to the Byzantium and Palladio exhibitions at the Royal Academy next week (which have had lacklustre reviews but let’s see; I’ve booked, anyway) so I may be a bit cultured-out after that for a while.
I strode around a bit with both poles, to demonstrate to Weeza, and it has to be admitted that that’s the way to use them. They were very comfortable, even if I did feel like a complete tit. Not for town, I’m afraid.
I’ve also ordered some inserts for shoes – these ones – which just lift the heel so shouldn’t interfere with the fit of most shoes. I hope, anyway. I’ve been most awfully good today, cycled to the pool and back, floundered ungracefully in it for three-quarters of an hour and will bike in to the high school for a meeting again in half an hour. I will be knackered by the end of it. I had an extra banana mid-morning to keep up my spirits. I don’t know what we’re having for dinner tonight, I have a fairly empty fridge. Hm. I think the freezer will be investigated, unless I make risotto. Hm.
Anyway, I won’t labour the point as I don’t want to sound entirely pathetic, but I will be about, free and thirsty, in the early evening tomorrow, somewhere between Trafalgar Square and Liverpool Street Station. I’ll be the one with the walking pole, trying not to look as if I feel really stupid.
I’ve lent Weeza my copy of my favourite Madhur Jaffrey Indian cookery book. And her childhood memoirs, which are delightful. I bought the cook book, some time ago, because I loved the memoirs so much.
I should wear gardening gloves if I were you; it may distract from the pole.
I should take the Sage with me; he certainly would.
and I thought older people didn’t mind being eccentric
Eccentric people don’t know they’re eccentric.
Those exhibitions sound fabulous
I’m resolved not to make comments about you eccentricity because you won’t know what I’m talking about.
Z isn’t an ‘older people’. I mean, she is older than most of us, but she’s not old.
I’m not eccentric at all. The Sage has his moments, however.
Thank you, Dave. That’s true.
The trouble with two – for me – I couldn’t deal with the camera at the same time.
‘Older people ‘ Dandelion? Z is but a girl.
Maybe so, PI, but she’s older than me. Hence, “older people”.
Are you back yet?
I’ve waited up, you see.
I know, Pat, it would be very awkward to carry anything. For striding across muddy fields only, I think. Or for orienteering with Simon.
I take your point, Dand.
Dave, how lovely of you. I’m back.