Bohs

I was so wrapped up in work yesterday that I completely forgot the arrangement I'd made to meet my friend Robin for morning coffee. He had to phone forty-five minutes after our arranged meeting time to ask where I was. I realised what I'd done as soon as I saw his name on my caller display, offered my abject apology and begged him to agree to meet today instead.

We'd intended another morning coffee, but he changed that to early lunch instead. We met in Mayfield, a wonderful café in Terenure, and had a grand old chat and a nice bite to eat (well, I had what amounted to lunch, but Robin stuck to coffee and toast and home-made jam). We compared notes about last Sunday's Belgian Grand Prix (we don't agree about Lewis Hamilton - Robin likes him; I don't - but were both impressed that he'd apologised for the incident which ended his race). We also discussed Italy, holidays, friends, cars, food, Dublin, the recession, health and much more. A pleasant encounter. I paid, to make up for yesterday, and it was a pleasure to do so.

Unfortunately, being over in Terenure meant that I missed a call from my mate Derek who fancied calling in for a coffee. I called him back, but he'd gone on home. I had neither coffee nor biscuits in the store cupboard, but told him I'd pop out and get some if he was still in the area and still fancied coffee and chat. I popped out for the coffee and biscuits anyway. It was on the way back up the laneway towards home that I saw this sticker on a lamp-post. I didn't know Dennis The Menace had anything to do with Bohemians (commonly referred to as 'Bohs' by Dubliners). It all looks a big gurrier-like to me.

There'd been a bit of a morning lull with work, but things took off again later on, mostly to do with corrections from the excellent proof-reader who works on the quarterly magazine. A good day, all in all.