Saturday and I wake after a reasonable nights sleep. Its chilly and my partner and I sip hot drinks and chat until we have a plan for the day. Bacon sandwiches for breakfast before some serious puttering to get the house straight. By lunchtime I am ready for the afternoons poetry stanza so I indulge in a football match. With the game almost over I settle in front of the PC and sign into the poetry stanza. For three hours I listen to poetry being read, discussed and explained and take my turn to make observations and share my ideas. This time I had not offered one of my own poems but I had shared a visual poem before the meeting which people said they liked and found funny, which I am not sure I intended it to be.

After the stanza I watch rugby, eat tea and search for an evening entertainment aware that I am becoming the owner of a headache. It ends in paracetamol, night meds and a late bed time.