9::30 – Late rise, sitting, breakfast.
I get Judith’s CD cover ready, finally. A job I thought was going to take thirty minutes takes several hours, which is probably why I was putting it off.
A bit of guitar with H.
I begin uploading the files.
I make pancakes, using the recipe by Delia Smith on her website. I’ve been discovering recently that if I read recipes for things that I think I can cook without, I often discover that I was doing it wrong. I’m not sure that I’d have been capable of it two years ago, and I’m not sure what’s changed. In fact I suspect that it’s not so much that I know more now, but that I’m capable of admitting to myself that I don’t know, that I have to find out and that there is a specific methodology that I have to follow, rather than some innate genius. Which is not there, cookingwise.
I decide not to eat any chocolate biscuits from tomorrow until Easter. Actually it looks like I’ve forsworn chocolate.
After pancakes I walk up to the Strand to pay a cheque into the building society – very cold out there, in fact it snows for a few minutes, and crossing the Jubilee Bridge is very challenging – and then go to Bureau, stationery fetishists’ shop of choice, where I buy a Lamy fountain pen and a tiny Nava propelling pencil. I’m looking at the pens, wondering why they all have medium nibs, and a sales assistant approaches me, asks if she can help. I want to ask whether different nibs are available (I want a bold one) but it comes out “These all appear to have medium nibs” in a way that feels very antagonistic. She’s very helpful and I take the pen to the counter. Again, during the exchange with the shop assistant it seems like all I’m saying is rude and abrupt, although I’m not feeling angry or aggressive at all, but I don’t seem to be able to control it. Even when what I’m saying is straightforward, or a ” thank you”, the tone of voice is harsh. Very strange.
I walk home. Haru is pleased to see the Lamy pen.
Dinner is leftover rice and pork soup – Far Eastern Fusion, I think – very nice. Followed by Haru’s Mum’s chocolate, which is a pretty good last-chocolate-for-a-month to have.
On the sofa for the evening, listening to TV themes from my childhood (the only one we have in common is Monkey Magic) and reading about Radio One.
Soon a toast for the end of the Yellow House and the beginning of what follows, and then bed.