My gran will hate this "humid" weather. She will be sitting there complaining about her legs to her overfed and spoilt cat (My nephew's nemesis. It channels satan. It is not a nice cat. Look, it's not even a 'he'.).
Sudden pang of guilt as I haven't spoken to her for aaages.
On the other hand I am the favoured grandchild this six months, as my birthday card reached her on time, as opposed to the ones from the rest of my family.
Blimey. Friday again already. Last night went out to a bar on The Cut, by the Old Vic theatre, to meet up with lady B and lady D. Really nice place. Music not too loud to talk, which was grand as we had some serious catching up to do with B. She's had a boyf since Christmas and we've only just found out. Whoops! But otherwise all good.
We were all knackered though, so left at about 9.40 to toddle home. The Northern Line went tits up when I got to Kennington (a points failure: how deliciously passé!) so I had to walk from there to Clapham. I now have more blister than right foot. That'll learn me for wearing smart shoes on a whim.
I was a bit morose when I got home, as it's really hit home that D is going away for possibly the best part of year in a matter of days. I have known D for just a gnat's chuff under ten years, and this makes me sad. But we have fun things planned for the next few weeks. Hoyesss.