I didn’t go to work this week. The reason was that I’d be dragging a very heavy suitcase around with me and while there’s quite a few escalators between home and the Science Museum, there’s also a few stairs.
I still took the dogs round to Sue, though, because she’s looking after them for us for the next five days while we go to Paris. This was a spur of the moment decision based, mainly, on the fact that Mirinda didn’t get much of a holiday the last time she had a week off. It was a staycation and I think she managed about half an hour of rest. The majority of the ‘holiday’ was spent on the phone, online or just on-call.
And so, it was decided that we’d go to Paris for five days. It was also decided we’d stay in an apartment but that’s a folly yet to be written about (see tomorrow).
Having dropped the dogs off, I continued into Farnham for some rolls for lunch and sugar cubes for Paris. I was very early so spent a lovely half hour chatting to Silvi and a new girl called Holli whose name was written like ‘Houi’ so I called her Howie. Oh, how we laughed…
Back at home, I had a few things to finish up (printing, cleaning up, etc) before I headed out in a taxi for the station. I was going straight to the flat.
Mirinda was there, typing emails and answering her phone and generally doing ‘work’ stuff. I had a coffee (she pretended to have a tea) then set off for the shops – I needed a new camera case as my (very) old one, finally gave up the ghost and the catch snapped off…and yes, mum, it was the one you sewed up for me.
On the way, I noticed a couple of interesting boats moored up by the Turkish restaurant.
Above is the sailing barge, Will Maldon but I can’t find anything about her. Sadly.
I’ve found a bit more out about this one though:
This is the Absolute Pleasure and it’s available for hire. Looks pretty swish to me. They have a website, here.
Back at the flat, Mirinda announced that her work’s Christmas do was to be held at the Spaghetti House, which is near Goodge Street Tube Station. She asked me if I’d go into town with her then stay in a pub and wait to escort her home. I said I’d accompany her in but that sitting in a pub for two hours (at least) on my own was not going to happen. I told her to take a taxi home.
The problem with Goodge Street is the lack of escalators. Mirinda doesn’t like lifts and that’s all there is at Goodge Street. Suffice it to say, she wasn’t best pleased with the world when we finally emerged from deep under the ground.
From all accounts, she cheered back up pretty quickly while I trudged back to the flat for some macaroni cheese and an episode of American Horror Story – Asylum.