Monday night had a couple of pints in the Richmond Tavern.
Dull morning - punctuated by Cathy - I tell her the wound whiffs to me she says it doesnt. Jean tells me to stop saying it as they write it down everyday. I promise tomorrow to say it smells of roses. Meander to the post office like a poorly performing Normandy veteran. Overtaken by several bowling grannies on the way. rushing with their little leather bags, light sandals and more crepe based fabric than is good for us. I suspect their green is flat not proper like I have played on (twice).
Came back sat in the yard read - watched myself on discovery what a hoot. Cringe factor 73. Jean watches it and cringes at herself and my pomposity. Ally watches it later declares it ok apart from cringing stills of her.
Result I think dont mention website support group or owt like that though.
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