I might as well be a spaniel

Suprisingly productive day. I even seem to be writing a diary entry after almost two months.
Up a bit late, actually, then sit. Foot hurting a bit – not debilitating, but nagging, sort of like an aggressively sarcastic sidekick – and kneeling turns that up a bit. Still. After that breakfast, and then a lot of messages that someone was trying to send me last night come at the same time. It’s quite difficult to work out a chronology, especially as many of them are duplicates, so I write a reply with my telephone number in it and wait.
Go off to the shopping centre to get money, thereby missing my visitors (who arrive by car, which I’d not been expecting), but eventually we meet up and have a nice cappucino and a chat at the Art Cafe, down the road. Good to speak in person, as technology hasn’t been helping, really.
After that, I take the train to Kingston, to drop off my accounts. I usually do this very (almost too) late, so it feels very good to have done it now. They seem quite pleased to see me. I take such pleasure in officially being a good boy, I might as well be a spaniel.
Then back on the train and to Walker. I had two cups of coffee with breakfast, two at the cafe and one on the train, so I’m speeding quite a lot now. Some Maisy tweaks, and Ben briefs me on a job I can start tomorrow. Hooray.
Home quite late, dinner, playing guitar and a bit of research into the melodic minor, about which it’s not possible to know too much. Or perhaps it is possible, but something I’m not currently in danger of doing.
Oh, and the toast. So goodbye August. You were cold and wet, and trying too hard to be September. September can now be itself.