Legless

Back to the UK after what has felt like good and long immersion in Romania. Day off to recuperate so busied myself in domestic affairs.

My sofa was delivered but without the requisite number of legs. I had to handle the transport of the sofa upstairs as one of the delivery guys was mute and pathetic. General sofa based incompetence.

I owe my hairdresser a debt of gratitude after last June's Brexit extravaganza. Otherwise I'd consider changing. Today I had my lumberjack look beautified, during which more grey hairs appeared than I've previously seen.

The conversation was choice. He is Italian and I mentioned I'd just been in Romania which has a very similar language. This is a fact.

'Not really. In fact in English you don't realise how much of the language comes from Latin and how much you use it every day. Basically any word ending in 'ble'. Horrible. HorriBLE. See? Compatible. CompatiBLE. You get it?

'Yea, I got you'.

Later another customer came in with a pretty dog called Ginevra, which led to a charming comparison:

'This dog is like a woman. When she's offended she does not look at you. When you say something nice or give food, she gives you attention. Just like a woman'.

So I joined the Women's Equality Party after mulling it over. And my Smash the Patriarchy t-shirt fortuitously arrived today.