Or Jools.
Anyway, you know the drill by now. Up an attem from about half five, getting ready for the day ahead including drinking lots of strong coffee. Jools has a shower and leaves, meaning I have tome for breakfast of oatcakes with butter and marmalade; a breakfast of champions. Or at least Scottish ones.
And then there is work at eight, eight more hours of copying and pasting, working my way down the document. Half done, sort of, so lets get on with it. In times gone by, I would have had the radio on, but it seems that radio feeds the inner procrastinator in me, so best work in silence.
The cats try their best to break the silence, demanding food or telling me they have captured some poor creature and it is in pieces on the back step. Such is life with cats.
The mornings passes, lunchtime comes and goes. I make ham sandwiches, but really feel the need to have crisps in it. So, make my own I thought. So, with some guidance from the interwebs, I slice some potatoes and pop them in the fryer to cook. The thicker slices did not brown, but the thinner ones did and went crispy too. Take them out, dab with kitchen paper and sprinkle with salt and vinegar. OK, neither Mr Walker of Mr Lay is going to be losing sleep, but they can only get better. Better I tell you.
With no Le Tour to distract me, it was all systems go in the copying and pasting department, at least until four in the afternoon, when I thought about giving the lawn another cut, thought better of it and opened a beer instead. Much better.Chorizo hash to prepare, and have a swig of beer as I work. That's the way to do it.
Jools arrives home just as I put the potatoes into fry in the paprika infused oil, and soon would be done. Being a Monday we have a bottle of pink fizz to go with dinner, what better way to celebrate getting another Monday out of the way.
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