For a lot of people in lockdown, the days seem to just melt into each other. Mirinda, for instance, needs constantly reminding what day it is. Not so much on a Sunday though because, god-like, I have decided it is my day of rest.
This is especially welcome following the sort of intense day I had yesterday.
Not that I get a sleep in. I can’t remember what they are like. My body wakes me at roughly 6am every bloody day. It’s annoying when it happens regardless of what time I go to bed. I assume if I went to bed at 5am I’d be wide awake and ready for my coffee an hour later.
A lot of people claim it’s old age. I claim it’s just plain annoying.
And so, my Sunday started off slowly and continued to reduce in speed until I reached prevening when it was time to start dinner. I’d decided on pork with green butter for this week’s roast because it requires minimal prep and creation. And, of course, there was cake remains for dessert.
Slightly different to my normal Sunday was that I was called into the library in order to let Lauren know what I thought of her film. While Skyping, Mirinda asked her if she wanted the gooey, aunty opinion or a proper critique. She wanted both barrels and so we both gave them to her. Which is four barrels, really.
She took it very well and, hopefully, will take it to her next project. The film showed a lot of promise and, if she works on the things that were lacking, I think she could be very good.
I spent a lot of time in my office doing research (including the mysterious Harry Cumming who started life as a stock broker in London then turned up as a labourer in Western Australia) and various other things.
The weather was lovely.
Today’s tulip is a one from the Hot Border.
The garden continues to improve, taking no regard of lockdown whatsoever.
