On a day in which Puccini opera once again came into my life I wasn't expecting rain. After a late start, coffee, the paper and La Boheme I ventured forth for a Sunday afternoon pint. Didn't go far, only to The White Horse at Welwyn. The gloom of outside was eradicated by an upbeat pub and a glass of ale. Eradicated that was until the lights failed, the TV went off, the internet died and the till failed. For a short while it was as gloomy as the world outside. But order was restored.
Pint finished I headed off in wet conditions for home. And now at home with heating ramped up Beethoven is bringing me cheer on an otherwise inglorious day. As ever the weekend seems to have gone quickly. In the blink of an eye it seems I have gone from my late leaving the office on Friday to the cusp of a return for week 4. Those felled by flu this week will I hope feel better. I'm extremely glad that thus far I have steered clear.
The new working week will no doubt bring many challenges but I will return in the knowledge that at least for now my mood has emerged from the minus territory of last week. Not entirely sure I'm in plus land yet but somewhere verging on that is a happy return.
I have no explanation for my recent descent downward but I'm hoping it has now passed me on to the next stage of the journey. And that starts with rare roast rib of beef. The diet can wait until tomorrow. A couple of people have said it looks like I have lost weight. Amazing when I think about it how easy it is to add additional crap to my diet. A biscuit here, a cake there. That extra pint because I could. I don't have a target weight in mind, never worried about that stuff but shifting some of the excess I put on after giving up smoking must be a good thing. So roast potatoes will be in rapeseed oil tonight and not goose fat.
Enjoy the rest of your weekend.
I Heard a Voice.
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