Up early for a Sunday and go for a run in the sunshine, which is nice (it’s still not that hot at 8:00-ish), home, shower, then to the supermarket. Abortive attempt at a walk, though do watch the river for a bit.
In the afternoon and evening: Put translucent film on the kitchen window while the England v Germany match is on (England aren’t very good, are they? It’s a shame); lunch, then put translucent film on the living room window (technically they’re the same room, but one window is kitchenier and the other is more living-room-esque), then have dinner and watch Argentina v Mexico, which is more like it, or, as H says, “proper football”;
Then watch Stevie Wonder at Glastonbury on the TV.
Up at 6:00, sit, breakfast. No run today – don’t want to strain my foot again.
Some dithering in the morning, mostly listening to the builders talking amongst themselves. I think they know I’m at home (I heard one say that a large filthy mark on the window should be cleaned off “while he’s there”, which suggests that if I was out they’d leave it), but I don’t think they know I can hear everything they’re saying. There seems to be one guy who knows what he’s doing and a bunch of others that he has to explain everything to in minute detail. I don’t know whether that’s par for the course or not.
Some font work in the afternoon, with a break to watch the end of the endless tennis match.
In the evening watch Japan roundly defeat Denmark (quite exciting, actually), and then retire to the bedroom to do some bits and pieces and, finally, destroy the shelving (which also holds the computer, monitors, other monitors that are actually speakers and everything else. It takes about an hour to extricate, and the area of floor in the living room I cleared this morning is now occupied by refugee stuff from the bedroom. Such is the way, I suppose.
Up, sit, breakfast, wave H off, run, shower, dress.
There are workmen outside on the scaffolding, which makes me at least moderately self-conscious. I’d like to think when all this is done, everything will be fine, but I worry, partly because I can hear their conversation and I heard one chap tell another chap “just mix it up like Polyfilla”. Last time they were all Polish, so I avoided all that. Ho hum. It’s been mostly scraping so far, anyway.
After lunch, rather than staring at the screen not sure what to do, I went for a walk – all the way to Oxford Street. I come back with three second-hand ties, a loofah mitt, a lemon, a lime and a pack of halloumi. I also saw the iPad for the first time, but there were too many people in the Apple Store to allow me to pick one up. Good thing too. Don’t want to fall foul of TECHNOLUST.
Make dinner (I’d conjectured that as Prawns and Avocado was nice, and Halloumi and Avocado was nice, all three would be very nice. And I was right), then stumble upon the longest tennis match of all time. When we start watching it was already at nine hours, and we watch it for an hour.
Some small bits and pieces. Still not sure what to do with the thing I wasn’t sure what to do with so I went for a walk. Perhaps that will necessitate another walk. Perhaps walking won’t help.
I wonder if that tennis match will finish tomorrow.
Up, sit, breakfast, wave H off to work, run, home, shower. The first run in a while – feels good, but also feels faster, and since I get home in about the same time as usual, can’t be faster, really.
In the morning set to editing the stuff I recorded last week. However, the audio is too reverberant and hollow sounding (and distorts), and the video isn’t of the quality I’d like it to be, partly because of the lighting. I realise that I’m going to have to do it again. Ho hum.
In the afternoon, I pay a cheque into the bank, and deliver Ben’s microphone to him at Walker. While I’m there I chat to Viv and mention the need to re-record (among other things), which thankfully she’s up for.
Walk home via the supermarket, where I stock up on supplies. The self-service check-out doesn’t seem to like me, calling for help every time I put something in my rucksack.
(Actually it doesn’t like the rucksack, but why pass up an opportunity to take offence at the opinions of an inanimate object?)
Home, cook, watch the football (rooting for Argentina versus Greece), then look at the other stuff I shot last week, about which I feel much better.
Nothing really achieved today, except that I walked all the way to the Sainsbury’s at Vauxhall and back again carrying groceries. Not sure whether that counts as an achievement, though obviously I did get some exercise out of it. The supermarket itself was particularly hellish – a place where people bring small children to scream in several languages. For example, you’d have been hard-pressed in London ten years ago to find a small child screaming in Russian, yet today, there she was. Ho hum. Other than that, I didn’t manage to reduce the list of Things I Really Ought to Do at all.
Went for a long walk – I actually only meant to walk up to Maplins to get DV tapes for next week, but they didn’t have the ones I was looking for (actually, there’s considerably less media of all kinds, which is slightly worrying), so I end up walking to ProTapes. Which is closed, of course, but at least I verified that it still exists. So then I walk home, buying clip-frames and a halogen oven. As one does. Home. Rearranging the kitchen to fit the halogen thing in. I like it better – more space Doctor Who – lovely tonight. What would traditionally be the Doctor-lite episode, except it was a Doctor-heavy (should that be -hevi?) and Amy-lite. Then we eat dinner and watch the England team be middling against the U.S. team, and whatever else the TV decides to throw at us.
Up, sit, breakfast, run, stretch. As I’m about to shower the front door bell goes off (so it does work – good) and it’s a package from Japan. Hurrah!
Spend the morning finalizing Wally files, take them in to Walker in the afternoon. Raining slightly. Oh, well. Home again.
When H returns, she opens the package. It contains a copy of the new Janelle Monae album (Oh, joy! And not out in Britain yet, which is why we had it sent from Japan), and numerous other things including socks with toes, and a giant pair of flip-flops for me (which sort of massage the soles of the feet. Interesting).
Dinner, then trying to make a foolproof HTML email template. Which is less easy than it sounds.
Up, sit, breakfast, wave to H, then go out for a run, despite the fact that it’s raining (a voice in my head told me not to be such a wimp), then shower and prepare. Into Walker, by which time the sun’s come out again (have conversation with the doorman at the back door about this). Doing some type updating for Ben.
Home after a couple of hours, and do some more stuff – getting things posted, visits to the art shop down the road and the stationery shop downstairs. More work.
Also prepare to order more badges, which I quite enjoy.
Up early, sit, run, then out for breakfast with H, who’s having a day off, and after that walk up to the British Museum for the Renaissance drawings exhibition, which I found stunning – the best thing about being there first thing on a Monday morning is that you can go from picture to picture with your nose about two inches from the glass. Which is what I did. Given that the paintings these artists are known for were done by studios, this is as close as we get to the artists, and they have a wonderful life and flow to them, often in contrast with the paintings they were sketches for.
Good lord, I just realised – today I saw Leonardo da Vinci’s design for a tank from about three inches away. With his handwriting on it and everything.
Then a coffee in the courtyard bit, walked to Muji on Tottenham Court Road, then to Fopp, then Robert Dyas, then another drink outside the Royal Festival Hall, then home. Didn’t buy anything apart from the drinks and a pack of freezer bags in Robert Dyas.
Minor, ultimately pointless, kerfuffle in the afternoon. Work. Dinner. More work.
Up, sit, breakfast, run, shower… stuff … short meeting with Denise on the South Bank about her site and other stuff. Home. More stuff.
In the evening to the Bennett Group. One half of Waterloo Bridge is closed, so there’s some complicated road-crossing stuff that needs to be done. Strangely, whenever something like that happens, I tend to think the planners are deliberately trying to make my life more difficult.