Recursive Words

Somehow almost a week has passed since I last wrote. I’m not sure why or how. There’s still a lot going on here – more than I can write about.

I woke this morning absolutely sure it was Friday. It took a good few minutes to realise that – no – it was actually Saturday. After a few minutes listening to the radio alarm clock, I scraped myself out of bed, had a shower, washed the shower (because of course I did), had a shave, got dressed, filled the dishwasher and turned it on, pulled on my coat, then set out for Wetherspoons for breakfast. Twice.

The first time I left the house I had no coat. It didn’t look that wet from the window. Obviously upon leaving the house, the director of the TV show I star in turned the rain up a bit. Hopefully my return for a coat was suitably entertaining for the viewers.

Wetherspoons is re-assuringly quiet (for now). And yes, I just made a “Small American” disappear. Two pancakes, some bacon, a sausage, a hash brown, and an egg. I did try a “Large American” once, and was disgusted with myself afterwards. Essentially the same thing – just double everything.

When the kids were little I would often make them pancakes for breakfast. Perhaps the most simple, and apparently exciting breakfast ever invented – judging by the smiling faces while gathering around the breakfast table.

There is a market in town today – down by the big Church (and yes, for those reading from far flung countries – I really do live in an English countryside town, with a church with a spire, elm trees in the graveyard, a park next to the river, and so on). The market has stalls with all manner of food you can’t buy in the supermarket – stuffed vine leaves, spanakopita, olive bread, and more. We would normally wander down as a family and mooch around – spending far more than we should – but today it’s raining pretty persistently. I wonder if umbrellas will win out over grimaced faces peering through he rain from the front door?

I’m guessing the rain explains Wetherspoons being so quiet.

The “table for one” problem just came back to haunt me. I’m sitting here with a laptop – and I don’t want to leave it on the table, or in my bag unattended – therefore I can’t go get another coffee from the machine.

Apologies for today’s post being rambling and disconnected. A part of me thinks this is how blog posts should be though – honest, fractured, and messy – rather than polished, neat, and contrived. Life is messy. My writing reflects that.