There was a slow start to the day: the goddess slept and I watched a brilliant game of rugby. By the time we left the house it was already almost one o’clock.
We delivered a new batch of my books to both the bookstore and SuperValu (where I have sold more copies of “The Drive” this year than anywhere else), did some shopping, and had a long talk about God with an 82-year old Croatian acquaintance at Renzo’s. Finally we arrived at Fet’s for lunch as we were both longing for a decent burger.
It seems to have been a while since we were at Fet’s, but it still feels like our home away from home. They have an interestingly eclectic menu, but their burgers have always been our favourites. In the fifteen years or so that I have been a customer, they have developed from a pasta/burger/sports bar into a very sophisticated restaurant. This is reflected in the careful plating of dishes these days, even with the burgers. I’m not at all sure, however, about the no-stem goblet I had my wine in today. But that didn’t detract from the (as usual) overall excellent meal.
Waddled home and, quite naturally, fell into bed for a deep three hour dreamless nap. A true joy. By the time I was awake and properly functioning it was almost 8pm — where do the days go?
Between us, the ever-loving and I set up bread to bake in the morning, and I made a British breakfast for supper (bacon, sausage, chips, eggs and beans). Satiated once again, herself settled down to an evening of English TV while I am watching England get thrashed at cricket by those damnable colonials from Australia, the only disappointing part of the day.
Soon, very soon, it will be time to have another, longer, nap.