11

#homealonediaries11

After midnight, on my way to bed and I realise today has not been documented - will, in fact sink into the mire of forgotten moments if I don't recall it quickly.

So bad is my memory becoming, in fact, that this morning's treat of going back to bed with my tea and having emails from Smallest on his commute seem already like a dream
(although it is somewhat disconcerting to realise one has become the Aged P to his Wemmick)

Ho hum...onwards to dogwalking in lovely sunshine and the making of some elderberry syrup, before running for the bus up the hill and a longish afternoon walk with guest-dog.
Somewhat messed the domesticity ("cockup on the domestic front") by pouring said syrup all over the kitchen instead of into its bottle. Oh well, I had planned to wash the floors this afternoon anyway...

Guest-dog was quite late leaving and then I decided to finish the boxset of Our Friends in the North...

And suddenly, as I said, it was midnight...remind me to tell you tomorrow about the man in the Oxfam bookshop!