Saturday 26th March

I can’t remember what happened since my last diary entry… ergo boring… so I’ll not bother trying…

Today I got up at the crack of dawn.. that poor long suffering female we all love to hate…

The morn dawned spring-like in Stockwell, but as I journeyed northward, albeit only to the midlands, the clouds clung ever more determinedly earthwards and the sun gave up, resigned. It was a mere 5 degrees when I turned up at Harborough station at 9am and turned the key in my ignition… decidedly nippy, BUT… sweet justice for past crimes- the parking machines were broken- and open- we were free to exit- literally!

Yesterday- London- I ate lots. Lunch with Isaac- Thai/Dim Sum-yum/Green Curry-delish/Jungle Curry- hot hot hot

Off to Covent Garden for  meeting @ Pineapple Dance studios…

All went well, even passed in the corridors Louis[de Berniere] no! …Louis someone or other who has the heart of the populus racing… Not being up on TV I haven’t a clue but perhaps a person will know that I met a celebrity even though I’m not quite sure who, why or whatever. It was a really good meeting nonetheless… Business interesting.

Back to Isaac’s flat where upon entering I have to shelve all my OCD clean/tidy /freakish/normal tendencies and just zone out. I do not know how they live, or rather don’t die every week from food poisoning/dysentery/bubonic plague/general malaise… But they don’t. We went out later to a Fishy place. Isaac had Oysters to start- I watched- we asked AQA why a friend of Isaac’s would go whappy after eating them- it’s all in the extremely high zinc levels and the increased testosterone produced on account of… apparently… Hence they are considered an aphrodisiac. Which we all knew. (God they’re ugly buggers though.. to be sure… I couldn’t swallow them raw for love nor money.) I had Beer Battered Coley, chips and mushy peas. It was good but I felt/feel very fat on account of excessive gorging. Pub after, bed at two. Isaac gave his up for me. He slept on the sofa with Sanchez the Noisy and his wheel, in a sleeping bag, in sight of the balsamic lake stain… It’s weird (and rather lovely) when your baby starts looking after  you…

I’m so tired tonight I feel like the sitting dead. I may have to go to bed now this minute and finish this off in the morning. Before I go maybe I’ll place a list of links of stuff I wish to share with you and I’ll tell you about my water refund and my art purchases tomorrow.

On second thoughts I’ll do the sharing and telling and novel writing and poetry and kitchen tidying tomorrow … see it’s a slippery slope…  I’ll be joining the students on the dysentery pile before I know it.

Tagged: children, diary, London, Oysters, Pineapple Dance Studios