I take the bus to work, saving my ankle for squash, which my
opponent then cancels. Damn. Though it’s probably good news for the ankle.
L sheds a tear over a BBC article about the ‘parents’ long goodbye’ as they drop their children off a university. It’s a bit biased though
and doesn’t mention the numerous fathers doing cartwheels. They’ll burst in to
tears several months later of course, when the realisation of how much it’s all
going to cost hits them.
It’s getting mighty competitive at home and not just over who’s
got the most serious injury. L vows to out-cook me tonight after my Hungarian
Stew on Tuesday and last night’s surprisingly good cod dish. She proposes a Jamaican, which means that mean my planned Croatian dish will have to wait for another night. It'll also give me time to google up a recipe...
(Thursday 26th September)
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