Sometimes there’s just not much to write about

It’s been a slow week, punctuated by fuss and bother about the strike next Wednesday (no-one seems to be able to talk about anything else at work), the kind of high winds that make the house shiver and the fire dance, and an inability on my part to climb (overstretched shoulder), which means that I’m feeling lazy and sleepy, and I just want to curl up on the sofa with a book.

I would do that if Handsome wasn’t watching the Grand Prix – I can’t tune out the whining from the cars.

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