“I am not a number; I am a free man.” ― Patrick McGoohan
So, I missed my 5 am slot!
I had a late night, and couldn't get up.
I'm at work, and ready for another day of action.
Shhh..., don't tell anyone, but I've just looked over daughter #1's draft tenancy agreement. Hopefully (phew), she's found a lovely flat in North London and will move in this Saturday. There are some advantages to being a lawyer; I do wish that whoever drafts this stuff — landlord and tenant material — would actually put a common-sense pair of glasses on the end of their 'show-me-the-money' nose.
I mean, if you're going to give someone a 'legal' document don't be surprised if another lawyer — hee hee — reads it. Actually, it's fine, if only because I could have a few fun and games with the landlord if he tried to enforce the terms.
Yesterday evening we spent time with my 84-year-old father-in-law. It was his birthday. He's not in great shape. One too many operations, a dodgy ticker, a loss of confidence and his hearing misfires. That said, I'm sure he loved having all his family around, even if it was a bit noisy for him. I was sorta on my best behaviour apart from a bit of Dad Dancing to the Pirates of Penzance and Tammy Wynette. Everyone, save Mrs S, was amused -- LOL.
I'm looking forward to the end of this week. Nothing's arising save a need to be in silence. I know that sounds daft but I need to disconnect from my phone, the banal nature of the conversation that comes from a cohort of colleagues that are sh*t scared to say what they actually think and me wanting to be with nature.
Tomorrow I'm going to catch up with a couple of friends — both coaches — who are such a loving pair and I know will have lots of lovely things to share.
Of couse, I'll still be creating. Hell, I might even write some poetry. But then again, what arises is what arises.
Me and Mrs S will do something so that we don't succumb to spending all our time doing the f* housework — arggh. The bloody washing.
Anyhow, have a wonderful day.