Up early again, hurrah. The usual routine, or what would be the usual one if I could get back into it.
It appears my monitor is dying, or at least the left-hand one is, which is a shame as it’s the good one.
My achievement of the day is cleaning a spare door to replace one that is broken and which has been sitting waiting to be fitted for, um, years. Hum. Anyway, clean it and fit it. There’s something very satisfying about watching dirt spiral down a plughole, apart from the fact that in order to get that effect, it’s necessary to let something get dirty in the first place.
Out and to John Lewis, where they fail to have an induction hob in stock, so I pootle along to Argos, where they do have a bottom-of-the-range (no pun intended) boiling ring. Carrying it home, I feel like I’m out of the 50s or something.
Get buffeted a lot today. I suppose I’m not used to the London crowd.
In the evening go to the new (well, fairly new, they’ve been there for three years) home of the Jazz Jam that used to be at the Three Stags near my flat. Now it’s at a pub between Stockwell and Brixton, so more of a schlep. But schlep I do. I have no instrument, so I can’t play, but then I didn’t want to. Anyway, nice to say hello.
Home again, eat chocolate. Soon to bed. There’s a remarkable three-wheeler sports car outside the restaurant.
I noticed a lot of skull motifs today – on a make of headphones I’ve not seen before; a sticker on the cistern in the pub’s toilet and on the bag a of a woman in a headscarf on the bus – in fact that was a pattern of skulls, flowers and cherrys.