Thursday and I wake up with last night in my head.
Having fully woken up my partner adn I make our way to the Orangery for breakfast. How lovely to have breakfast that is provided by someone else. Good muesli followed by eggs Benedict with salmon. Delicious. We ate whilst the wren that had got into the Orangery flitted about and we chatted to the couple on the next table who had also been to last nights show. We took our time over the meal and then returned to the room to pack. We checked out at reception and then drove home. Being efficient I unpacked and begun to down load material onto the blog site.
It was not long before my partner and I are planning for the weekend and drawing up shopping lists. We get organised and drive to our local Sainsburys and fill our trolley with the goodies we require plus a few indulgences. Its not a good experience, nothing specific but the joy of supermarkets has faded. Its difficult to describe but it is now just a big shop full of strange stuff and After Eight mints at a scandalous £4. The goodies get loaded in the car and we return home but on the journey we discover that the CD player is refusing to spit out the resident CD. Once home I read the car manual to no avail and then watch videos of people wheedling CDs out of car CD players. Armed with my computer mending tool kit and some gaffer tape (no crisis in which gaffer tape isn’t useful), I return to the car and proceed to delve into the CD player. In less time than I anticipated I am able to coax the CD in to view. With a deft touch I use my computer fine point pliers to slide the disc out. I run checks and find the CD player is now working perfectly well. It is clear that the CD player was unwilling to let Tina Turner out into the world again. Happy with my work I return Tina to my partner with a plea not to let Tina back in the car.
With my tools away I settle down to watch episode three of the Harvard philosophy lectures and continue to watch until tea time. I am drooping, a severe lack of spoons now but I draft the blog before settling down to watch one of my favourite films, In the Heat of the Night, possibly Rod Steiger’s best performance as the racist southern sheriff. I’m drinking water like a thirsty camel as I have bloods to do in the morning and being hydrated make a difference. I will take my meds and get myself to bed and hope for many spoons to give mem the energy for the weekend.
