Month: June 2018

The first day of summer

Lazy morning in bed reading.


Long walk with boys in the Chantries woods – my favourite running space in Guildford. Can’t run, so made it a hilly walk with the boys.

Cool shower, warm shave.

A spicy naked burrito for lunch, drowned with a free Coke zero.


A pint by the river to soak the sun, reading a saucy, spunky book in public 😉

Followed it up with an ice cream from the van, enjoyed while walking by the river – through waggy dogs, playful kids, picnicking families, and a few sunning beauties.


Finally, had a lovely cortado before the ride home, and picked up a biscotti for later.

Now, back with the boy, with cuddles, and whining, belly rubs and bum scratches.
The best bit: no vomit anywhere == the grub stayed in his tummy 🙂

Oh, and back watching the French Open. (Djoko just won his match)

A day of too many calls

I have to call parents. Didn’t call them this week. That’s about 45 mins gone.

Then I have to call an aunt who’s visiting her injured son in the US. She’s been calling at odd times, I haven’t answered. I guess she’s bored and lonely. 30 mins.

I haven’t spoken to the sister in a long while. May give her a ring. 5 mins, if she picks up.

And it’s been 100+ days since I fell off the wagon – I was on a streak of calling one of my old friends once a week. 10-30 mins, depending on the friend.

It’s gonna be a long day! Glad that R is going back to London, sparing me some ear capacity.

P.S.: It’s still a ‘phone call’ if I’m calling most of them on Duo, right?

The rules do not apply

It’s a brilliant book. It’s amongst the best written books I’ve ever read. It’s got the magic that made me smile, nod my head in agreement, screech inside, and be sad. Be very sad.

It’s probably the best book I’ll read this year.

That’s not good. Because it’s over. I didn’t want it to be over. I finished it in three sittings, but I want it to go on for ever.

It also means that anything I read for the next while will feel like it’s taking something precious away. Like eating a dessert after having a steak at Le relais de venise. When I want to savour the taste of that steak in my mouth, anything I eat next will spoil it. And yet, I can’t go without eating forever. Or without reading. Like she says: “nowhere to go but down”.

For another, I’m already in a rump. I’m not happy. I’m not working. I’m not working out. I’m still injured. I’m gaining weight at pound-a-day. And all my relationships are already on that slope that has nowhere to go but down. I didn’t need another source of sadness. And such a beautifully written source, at it.

:(