I just came into the room - some time ago, I left the Sage watching snooker, and I expect he couldn't find the remote control (it was so simple when you just used the buttons on the tv) and so left it - and the report of the London marathon is on. I left it and sat down with a glass of wine, but now, ten minutes later, my hip is actually aching. Since it doesn't normally (this is my own hip, not the one that the Sage paid for), I can only assume that hips have ears.
My main other feeling is relief that I shall never go for a run. Sorry, I do appreciate the pleasure and satisfaction that people get from running, but I've never felt it and I'm not unhappy that now I never can.
Another christening this morning, at our informal monthly service, which starts off with bacon sandwiches and newspapers and ends up with me and Andy playing, respectively, clarinet and keyboard. He set a rattling pace and I was breathless by the end. Shine Jesus Shine, indeed. And Pant Z Pant. Five sharps, 'n'all. One of the lads in one of the music classes I go to was in the congregation. We succeeded in not catching eyes.
Later, I labelled and moved the rest of the tomatoes, and here they are. They don't really look like three hundred and something, but they're all here, except the unidentified one. Actually, it looks like a Gardener's Delight, but we'll see. I'll give it a good home, anyway.
In case any of you notice the time on this post, I started writing it and then went to cook dinner before finishing. So the marathon was on television ages ago. At least an hour.