It's not a million miles away.
No fags obviously.

More than one would be to enter that intemperate winter palace.

Thanks Jules.
I like it.

It's a thing in Barbados apparently.
Made with evaporated milk and ketchup.

You'll find well fired rolls now.
I still haven't had a pie in one.
It'll happen though.
I took my 14 year old nephew to the Hibs game at Pittodrie (horrible football).
Anyway, he's from Bath.
'What's a macaroni pie?'
Turned out to be the high point of the afternoon.

The Herald, like The Scotsman, I've never read regularly.
I only really read Ian Bell after he died. That's bad I know.
Well, I was too busy reading the fitba pages in the Evening Express and admiring photos of sheep in the P&J!

Yeah. It was only really the Saturday edition I would buy.
That and the Observer on a Sunday.
I'm concious of this phone making my reading bite-sized.
Not a good development.
I've just gone along with it.

Really great 👌

'at looks affa fine.

I haven't bought an actual paper copy of the Grauniad for ages.
I still find the generally miserable lefty tone suits me quite well.
And I've yet to get through Eaton's quiz without saying, 'how the fuck is anyone supposed to know that?!' at least once.
Sometimes 15 times.

I've stayed in Travelodge.
Work.
Fuck, it's just a bed for the night and a piece of toast in the morning.
Fine.

Arriflex 35 II
Surprisingly comfortable.

🤣

Life is hilarious.
I had an appointment with the very little camera (no big C up the arse after all. Good).
I took Darragh (Sinead's youngest) to the Hibs game (Absolute pish).
And I said 'Helena Rubenstein Wanted' in a work email because I'm almost 60 so bollocks.
Kitchen photos?