Thursday 12th August 2021

Good morning, and welcome to Thursday.

Jools was back from Madchester, the cats, or Mulder, was happy. She had the rest of the week off and I had my audit to complete and to finish off the data analysis.

I was also battling a gout flare, that never quite exploded, but was "there", in the background, so all I could do was drink and drink and hope to flush those crystals right out of my toe.

Big toe, Les.

I woke up late, I mean twenty past six, but as I had another late finish, it meant I could start late, and in order to cheer myself up, I decided to burn another day's holiday on Friday, whch meant this was the last working day of the week. I cheered up.

Jools went swimming, then to Tesco, which meant for three hours, I was on my own. Again I was told that I would be called if needed, and so could concentrate on the spreadsheet of death. Working out what some lowly functionary on the Chinese Steppes meant when they raised an NCR report, and could I make sense of it? That I am being paid to do this shows what a global world we now live in, sitting at our dining room table, whilst the guys on the other side of the world complain about buckets, relay units and ladders falling off towers.

The morning passes, and Jools returns, laden with shopping, so I cook bacon to be placed inside thick slices of the bread I made the day before. And brews.

As breakfasts go, it was magnificent I have to say.

And I went back to work.

Jools spent the rest of the day in the garden weeding, deadheading and general tidying up.

At four I join the closing meeting, and take notes. Not a bad three days all in all.

And that meant it was the weekend! And to celebrate I make fritters with some extra curry powder in, just to add some zest to them.

We share the plateful of golden, crispy wonders, fritters that look like dirty food, but in fact healthy. That's what we tall ourselves anyway.

So begun the weekend, the last football free day for about ten months as the new Pres season kicks off on Friday. So, the owrries of the working day fall away like cobwebs in a breeze, three days of fun stuff, and football, ahead.