annanotbob's Diaryland Diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
walking in the air
I saw yet more writing on the pavement today:
The last word is stream, so 'Your entire social life in a single stream'. That's three I've seen within a week, all on side streets fairly near the centre of town, all looking as if they've been there a while and all good, provocative statements. I'm liking them.
It seriously pissed down with rain today, as indeed it did yesterday, but yesterday I managed to always be walking in the drizzle between heavy torrents, so it was more luck than judgement that I stayed pretty dry in a cotton skirt and one of Ren's old hoodies. I didn't think about the weather before I left the house yesterday and I didn't today - just wore the same clothes. This was the view as I had a fag outside where I met my pal Tara for lunch:
I got soaked right through to the skin. Never mind - it was quite exhilarating. This is the view of my lunch:
which was scrummy yummy delicious, called itame, and I may even attempt to make it myself.
Then I swam and swam up at the gym - I drove over there through thick cloud that completely hid the sea and the downs and any sense of being in a big open space. I felt as if I was in a tiny cocoon of fresh air within a world of soft grey cotton wool with just a pair of red brake lights on the wet black road in front of me. Cool.
Marion has decided to train for a marathon next year and although I have mentioned this myself, I haven't actually done anything about it. But I am going to increase my swimming by two lengths per session, in some kind of tandem effort. I've gone up from 20 to 26 lengths. Well, I think I have - I found myself repeating 24, 24, 24 as I was swimming the other way, so it must have been either 21 or 23, so fuck knows really. I did notice that it more or less stopped raining while I was in the water.
This evening I even managed to do a few rows on the dreaded Cardigan of Doom. My left thumb doesn't like the purl rows very much but I am determined to finish it. Four rows a day and it'll be done in the end.
OMG, I'm listening to Bob Dylan's Theme Time Radio, on the theme of cats and he's just been talking about sex kittens, specifically Diana Dors, 'the British Munroe, the siren of Swindon'. Aw man, I was born in Swindon... I dunno, it made me smile.
Today I an grateful for: an online social life (no matter what some smart-arse writes on the pavement); feeling an intimation of a (real) life taking shape ahead of me; a long chat on the phone with Sara; listen-again radio; curly hair
Sweet dreams xx
11:11 p.m. - 07/10/2009
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------