5 April 2010

April hasn't been too cruel so far. In fact, it's been swell. I've done practically nothing for four days straight. How nice.

I did actually go out on Friday night to the Notting Hill Arts Club. That was a good night. So good that I managed to down only three glasses of wine because the last one disappeared before I had a chance to drink it - thank goodness. I really was a little too insouciant about leaving it one a random ledge whilst I continued to dance. We must have danced for about four hours straight. By two in the morning, it was time for some dirty falafel kebab and a trip home on the night bus. Lucky for me there is a direct bus from my house to the club. It bodes well for repeating the experience. The journey home was fraught with discussions about the existence of God and whether atheists are closed-minded. I'd like to think that I won but, to be truthful, it ended rather abruptly once we'd arrived home and realised that we could be in bed instead of debating.

And that's it! That's it! I've lain in various places around the house, sat in different chairs and upon different sofas, picked up different books, watched different channels.

I did have fun with lentils and wild rice. I've eaten so much of them this weekend on account of the fact that I didn't quite get my amounts right and produced a ruddy great bowl of the stuff. The mixture also included pearl barley and brown rice and is divine hot or cold with roasted vegetables or salad greens and chickpeas with a little lemon juice drizzled atop.

And slowly the minutes tick by and each one brings me closer to the end of this most relaxing Easter...

There was a sore point however. This was when I decided to have a bottle of red wine with dinner last night and the cork fell apart. Why me? Oh woe. What is it with corks? It must be the bottle opener - the new one - that replaced the one that Jade and I broke that fateful night. Well, this time it was unsalvageable. It fell apart into little piece, so tiny that even a sieve couldn't remove them. The bottle is still sitting on the bench laughing at me. Perhaps, if I had a cloth, I could strain it? Who would have such a cloth? I certainly don't. Jamie Oliver would. I've seen him use it on home-made tomato sauce.

Mother says that the house is coming along nicely. The jib is up and it almost looks like a house on the inside as well as the outside. Stephen is moving into a house which has a yard for a pony. Father has made the assumption that I can fit a Mastodon in my front yard because he says that he's sending me one over for my birthday. Apparently it will chew on the foliage and generally be a charming and docile pet. Probably unnecessary, but let's wait and see.

I know all this because I checked in on the comings and goings of family last night with an Easter phone call, obviously.

I can't tell you any more. I can't even find more lies to tell you about soccer. Nothing interesting is happening with Arsenal except apparently that Spanish people hurt themselves whilst playing against them.

So, for now and until later...