Monday 19th November 2018

The weekend was glorious, the sun shone and it was nearly downright warm. But come Monday, the wind swung round to the north east and a steady breeze nearly turned gale force. It was bright enough, but very chilly, as cold as it has been since last winter to be honest.

Early morning and the house was cold, so I put the heating on and wait for it to warm up some. I could have moved around a bit, but where's the fun in that?

Indeed.

Normally there would have been football to catch up on, no Premier League for sure, but I could have taped the England game, but the night before I found the highlights already posted on You Tube, so no need.

There is the usual dread when starting work as to what diasters had befallen me over the weekend, but it was quiet, at least at first.

I have got used to working from home, but this week includes the first of maybe a dozen trips to various factories here in the UK and in Denmark, means I will be getting the air miles again I suppose. So, for now, I enjoy commuting from one chiar to another at the table. In fact this is not true, since having the office chair, I just move that from one computer to another and start work.

So begins another marvelous day and week.

Breakfast at seven, lunch at half ten, and lots of cuppa inbetween.

Situation normal.

I had done some mild gardening the day before, well, picking up stones. By the way my back and legs were complaining, you would have thought I had picked up a mountain, rather than three buckets of stones. I am such a drama queen sometimes. I hobble around the house complaining to myself, as there is no one else to hear me. Well, the cats, but they were asleep.

The passes into afternoon, and my enthusiasm for work fades, leaving me with a dozen mails to send, half of which I get wrong, apparently. Corrective action planned for the morning.

It is dark, cold and wet outside, not very nice at all, and not good for a walk all day, not that I had time anyway.

And that was the working day, I do wonder if I make a difference you know, sometimes it seems I make little or no progress. Oh well, always tomorrow.

I cook dinner, simple pasta carbonara again, turning into a proper favourite. And such a fine meal demands wine. Red wine. One glass. Two glasses. Three glasses.

What was the problem again?

Radio, writing and editing were the order of the evening.