Leisurely Breakfast

One of the good things about being retired, but with a partner who is still in the Land of the Employed, is that you still share those Friday Night Feelings of Relaxation, but without those Sunday Night Feelings of 'Why am I slumped in front of Antiques Roadshow when I should be Doing Something for school' ...

So a leisurely breakfast is on the cards, sometimes at a cafe, if I can be persuaded to put up with the muzak in return for, say, a 2 for 1 offer, or indeed, Very Good French Toast with Passable Coffee. However, this morning I did my poached eggs. It has taken me some time to perfect them, and I can now even get coffee ready at the same time. After many raggedy eggs which looked like I'd dropped them before serving (and indeed probably had) I invested in a couple of wee rubbery cup thingies, which keep the eggs neat and tidy. They do look odd when drying off on the kitchen bench - like something a lactating mother might make use of. But they do the job! Also, after mislaying it for some time, I discovered where the macro setting was on my camera. Job done! It's amazing how free you feel for the rest of the day once you've got a suitable shot.

We wandered into town and happened into the National Library. There's a great exhibition on there, and in one part it's about William Shakespeare and all the phrases that are in common usage nowadays, but originated from him. In fact, the Wild Goose Chase of a couple of days ago was originally Old Will! It's from Romeo and Juliet, Act 2 Scene 4. See! You Learn Something Every Day. And he probably said that first too! The National Library also has a cafe which is a Muzak Free Zone. Thank you!

Left JR in her favourite shop, BagaPuffin - she can be in there hours days on end. I came back home, keen to get the blip done and settle down for an afternoon's rugby. Whether it's to be joy or despair, I need to focus.

As sometimes often usually happens, the bus came along before I got to the stop. My head said "NO!" but my feet started to walk faster and faster and eventually, yes, it could be called A JOG! Of course, this is the signal to the driver (watching in his side mirror) to wait till I'm just about at the end of the bus, then take off! My cue to slow down to a stroll and pretend to the bus queue that I WASN'T rushing for the bus after all, but was just a supremely fit older person who liked to jog along pavements. I think the gasping, spluttering and collapsing on the bus stop seat might have given the game away, though.