The 7am work shift and TEA.
Welcome to my world.
It was painfully cold out there; it was painfully cold indoors as well.
The only solution was for hot tea every fifteen minutes.
I was BURSTING when the four hours of work came to a close.
In Wet Food News: the kittens are back on the wet food. It has been most odd.
Anna has a theory that they are eating bread in other gardens that has been put out for the birds.
Given that Dotty brought in a bird last night, I reckon that the bread theory is a little lame.
I updated the Wiv Indies site mid-morning.
Disclaimer, disclaimer, blah blah blah: I’m not out door knocking with the Indies.
But I wish them well.
I had some South Lambeth Road finance chasing just before luncheon. Having a Company Secretary that has buggered off and knows where the bodies are buried is a bit of a bummer.
I’m slowly untangling the the various finances left scattered around SW8.
And then out went the call of:
It was actually rather LOVELY.
Off to Clactonia with the ACE Warm and Toasty Club. It isn't that warm. pic.twitter.com/8tBo5IvnGg
— Jason_Cobb (@Jason_Cobb) February 10, 2017
I was booked in to help capture online the Warm and Toasty Club with Johnno.
Spending a Friday afternoon with half a dozen senior ladies talking about social history is ACE.
It started to snow as I left the location before sunset. I took sanctuary in the Clacton Lidl.
It was identical to my Sunny Stockwell home turf. It took me all of two minutes to locate the croissants and cheapo BOOZE.
A brief train journey back to base, and then we went out for an intimate local gig with the Pop Genius.
He was on fine form with a selection of songs and yarns.
The talking dog shaggy dog story matures with age.
I’m back on Parkrun stewarding duties in the morning.