It's Sunday and it is such a beautiful day, but it is still so cold. I slept soundly and long, over 10 hours again, surely this isn't normal? Good to get a catch up via email from you, glad C liked her birthday present.
It's been a usual Sunday for me, I do love routine, which isn't necessarily always a good thing, but it's good so far. Up and jogged for 25 minutes, toast, a little butter and marmalade for breakfast, out for my filter coffee at Starbucks, the girls made it to perfection. Indulged in one chapter of Eat , Pray, Love then dived into the latest InStyle magazine which is talking about summer and toning and fake tans, oh yes... you can tell that summer is on it's way.
I now have more new and sweet potatoes roasting in the oven with sea salt, black pepper, extra virgin olive oil and sprigs of rosemary, (yep... I bought way too many carbs for the weekend.)
Well, the day turned out to be anything but routine, when, at 7pm, I had a drunken woman knocking on my door and hollering "Dave!" through the letterbox. I tried shooing her away via the kitchen window but she was too drunk to get it, that she was at the wrong house. Then, in a moment of stupidity, I opened the door on the chain to ask her, what number she was looking for. Dave apparently lives at my number, or ten doors down. Having reassured her that "Dave" didn't live here, she toddled off and I closed the door. A minute later, she was back hollering for Dave again, this time, I opened the door again, with phone in hand, doing a good impression of someone phoning the police, "Police please, yes... I'll hold... what's your name?" I asked the woman her name and she stared at me incredulously and promptly scarpered. This used to be such a quiet place to live.
Sunday lunchtime, while I was crying through a TV show about adoption reunions, I did wonder why I was excessively watery. A pretty heavy head cold descended in a matter of hours following that, I've been trying to fend it off for a few weeks but this time, there was no holding back.
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