Tuesday was another of those days where the emphasis was more on money than the social.
In short - I didn’t leave the house.
The work shifts were there - which I’m grateful for - but they didn’t leave any window of opportunity for an escape.
Or even a swim.
The Man Who Sold the World was the @RobertElms Bowie Tune of the Day. I repeatedly sung the chorus back to the kittens. This was their cue to go outside.
These outdoor explorations are becoming more adventurous by the day. It’s great that they have the confidence to explore their environment, but it leaves me very nervy.
Heading down towards the far end of the garden is fine: Here Be Other Gardens, and more importantly, no cars.
Each time they take an interest in the side passage then I have to tell them about the danger of cars beyond the garden gate.
I felt like a right twat tbh, talking to a couple of kittens outdoors at midday in December.
My housebound activity activity meant that I was around to catch Mr Postie.
WHAT A BEAUT, etc.
I’m being drawn back to Trentside almost by the day. I’m not entirely sure what is driving this.
It will probably all change with Forest away at the Sheep Dip Sunday lunchtime.
I did look at Trent Bridge property prices, mind.
Don’t tell Anna.
The annual buildings insurance for South Lambeth Road was renewed late afternoon.
That’s about as Rock ‘n’ Roll as it gets, I’m afraid.
I took some time out for the daily French lesson. I have definitely reached my saturation point.
Work, work, work, all the way through until 11pm.
It’s Escape to South London in the morning, Comrades 🙂