Monday 19th April 2021

Oh, hello Monday. How I've not missed you.

So, here we are again.

As is the normal way, I sleep through the alarm as normal, waking up to find Jools getting ready for work, and the first coffee of the day waiting. Outside the sun was shining, though there was yet another frost, which the sun, already up was quickly melting.

Jools goes for a walk, I have a second coffee, and so try to be awake and alert enough for work.


Are we ready? Well, not really.

But Monday, and work is here, ready or not.

Mostly not.

Monday was a day in which little happened, other than work. Which had phone calls, e mails and meetings.

However, procrastination came easily with the breakaway not-so-SuperLeague news still fresh and taking up rather a lot of my bandwidth. Just be thankful I haven't written about it yet, most people seems to have done.

And on top of that, Spurs sacked Jose Mourinho for, well, pick your reason: for being Jose, bad results, playing unattractive football, being Jose.

Can the news please stop for the day so we can digest this news? Or allow me to get back and concentrate on work?

Apparently not.

I was hungry. No carbs to be easily sourced, so I look and look in the freezer and cupboard and find nothing. So, the only choice I had was to make some potato bread, pop it in the oven to cook, and once done that, I find just a can of ancient tomato soup to go with it. I open the can, warm it up on the cooker, then once the bread is cooked, rip it to pieces to dunk in the soup, because dunking.

And that was by far the most exciting thing of the day.

At three, I am done for the day, well, you know. So I pack up and pick up my coat, put on my shoes and grab a camera to go for a walk. Straight away my foot grumbled and built up to some serious complaining. Not my toe, but the bridge of my foot, and so limped across the field to Fleet House, but turned back before I got to the pig's copse to check on the porkers.

I walk into the sun, hedgerows and verges full of just grass and dandelions to dstract.

I was glad to get home and put my foot up and let out a deep sigh.

I make a sourdough loaf with the ready mix, and in 90 minutes have created a new breaddy monster, which we were going to eat with the season's first aparagus, gently fried in butter, and set off with a small insalata caprese.

My gosh, that was good.

The day drew to a close, there is music to listen to, and from eight, Leeds v Liverpool, where due to superleague slpitters, I am urging Leeds to stuff then very roughly. But I give up at half nine with Liverpool leading just 1-0, so miss the late equalizer.

So it goes.