Tom Dick

Note to self. remove tv from bedroom. Sophia wakes me up at 06:30 watching Bear Grylls freezing his nuts off somewhere in the antarctic. I’ve never known a more enthusiastic cold bloke. Louis is tom-dick and havin’ a day off school. Cloder-wig emerges at around 11am demanding a ham and cheese wrap.  (Cloder-wig is what the name Louis means in old Frankish). He hates it. 

Next doors Cat keeps coming in the house. I think he thinks he knows me. Could be some past life thing I suppose either that or they’ve got him on a diet and he’s wanting some food. Mum messages to say she’s on the ferry. I’m not sure what to do with this information. I tell her to send my love to the captain and wish her safe passage on her 45 minute journey across the ocean. 

Head to Waitrose to get some food for tonights meal. It pretty much consists of buying a load of veg I’ve never heard of and 4 jars of dried herbs I’ll never use again beyond the half a tea-spoon I have to extract from each. It’s 4:30pm and Cloder-wig has a new lease on life,” and has butchered a pepperoni pizza and a bowl of chips. 


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