Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Work, gutted and making the bed.

1. At 9.30, I leave work and go home to where Nick is waiting to start his day. "It's amazing what you can do in an hour," I tell him.

2. "Oh!" I am dismayed and despondent. "Supper is going to be late." I had assumed that the fishmonger had cleaned and gutted the dabs I'd bought for us. They were intact. "Brave girl," says Nick, as I search for information about preparing flat fish. It's not so bad really in the end, and they are delicious.

3. We stand Alec in his cot while we change our bed. He watches us shaking out the duvet, and then picks up and shakes his own blanket.

3a. I come to bed late and crawl into the clean sheets. They feel so good that I want to wriggle and squirm right across the bed.