L walks the boys, which I hope didn’t relapse her back. I shall be back on it tomorrow.
I bike in, leaving the legs pleasantly throbbing. So it’s probably a good job that squash is off due to my opponent having a plumbing related injury. I thought playing three weeks in a row would be too much considering his inclination to injuring himself.
So I don’t need to worry about my pub lunch, the steak and ale casserole, ruining my back hand. Not that I usually worry about it anyway and now we can fit in an extra Friday night at home.
L tells me she’s moved on from Neanderthal man (Clan of the Cave Bear) and is now reading a book about Victorian prostitution. Which sounds very similar to me, apart from the introduction of cash payments. Poor old Darryl Hannah never got a penny for dropping to her knees on command.
(Thursday 23rd April)