How could anyone absorbed in tales of seduced typists on the Balkan Express be en route to a Writing Course at the Groucho? And yet.. Hope I don't need painkillers before I get there, but I don't think I'll get away with it. Reassuring Nursey this morning. More hospital tomorrow. Onward and upward, as they no doubt still say at Camden School for Girls (always preferred their motto to our 'Serve and Obey'. Miserable lot. What wretched ambition would that match?)
Rissotto doesn't photograph well. There's an inevitable anaemia to it. And it makes me wonder whether I'm morphing into Auntie Anne. The worst of recycling.
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Cut some of the elderly clematis down this morning. It's going to fill bags and bags.
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