T’internet reception, always pretty poor in Norfolk, has been abysmal here for the past couple of weeks. It takes several goes just to read emails, because loading is usually timed out repeatedly. Blogspot, for instance, hasn’t loaded yet as I write, after several minutes waiting – I’m writing this offline and will paste it in.
Today, I’ve mostly eaten chocolate. Oh dear. I did walk all the way down the drive and back, and did some housework that didn’t involve things I’m not supposed to do, but I hardly think it will have made up for it. And I made more soup, using oddments of vegetables that I suspected the Sage wouldn’t get around to serving, and the rest of the tomato juice that I feel no obligation to drink now that I’m on good red wine again. Still the one glass per night, but I look forward to getting slightly wasted in a few weeks’ time. When I celebrate being able to take off my own socks of a night, perhaps. I wonder what the Sage will celebrate most when I’m back to my normal behaviour.
I said *my* normal behaviour, before anyone says anything sarcastic.