Brown sauce in the bed

Tra la la la la

I managed to miss my fried egg with the HP Sauce this morning. The resulting stain on the sheet really wasn't a good look, so hooray for perfect drying weather. We've gone all eco in the washing machine though, so it's still there, just looking a bit less gross. I think I'll have to dye everything brown.

I started with my hair, which is now something called Bitter Chocolate. I like.

In other news, we spent most of yesterday waiting for things. First in the farmers' market, where they have two people serving on the veg stall and fifty people waiting. After forty minutes we bought a green squash and some curly kale. M went out for the paper and we read and talked to people and had coffee and looked at the bright autumn light through the skylights, but nonetheless I can see that the novelty will wear off at some point. Then we waited for a table in Cocos, drinking Virgin Marys with horseradish and trying not to tune into the inane braying of the posh and recently left home. Finally, we waited for J in the Holly Bush, and he never came. But other people did, and some of them played guitars and sang songs.

I think it could best be described as a day of enjoyable side effects. An odd one was a Jim Davidson divorce joke that M read out from the paper. Who'd have thought I'd ever find Jim Davidson funny?

"In the future," he said, "I'm just going to find a woman I don't like and give her a house and a hundred grand. It'll save time."

joella