london calling…
Well a scant few days later and a weekend of resounding successes, even if the majority of the spoils remain carefully wrapped and stashed in an appropriate bit of the fridge freezer to await my return from That London next Saturday evening. I have still yet to visit Malton without it raining, but walking around with a bag of raw burgers and cheese doesn’t lend itself to a warm day that well anyway. A nicely ripening slice of Stinking Bishop has always guaranteed me a seat to myself on the train home; unbagged it would probably get me the carriage, if not an actual breach of the peace charge.
Next up was a bus ride out to B&Q followed by a spot of concreting, it being both a Bank Holiday weekend and school half term. As anybody who lives in a seaside town will know, being shut safely indoors with a few jobs to keep us out of mischief is far and away the most pleasant place to be on these occasions at least until we get our beach back for a few weeks, so now I not only have posh sockets, I have a beautiful level bit of floor where before there was a wonky sloping bit, and yet another pair of old jogging bottoms destined for the ragbag. Woohoo!
The first London trip in what seems like forever (despite my having been there only a month ago) is just around the corner only one sleep away, and availability is dwindling already – going on the forecast, I’ll spend the journey down praying the aircon is working properly. Arrival/getting settled/lunchtime will take it to around 3pm – calls from 2, all being well. Scarborough folk would normally have to wait until Monday, but as there’s a cricket match on Sunday and I’ll have a suitcase full of laundry I may be around after all, depending on general knackeredness and whether it’s raining – just text and ask!
For the record though and since we’re here, if my phone is off because I’m busy, have finished for the day or am at home and you get my autotext telling you what time/day to call back, that isn’t a cue to ring another eleven times in the ensuing couple of minutes. Doing this – since I will assume you are a twat and block your number – only serves to be counterproductive. Please stop it.
More soon and Londoners, see you there!
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